


Burning the Midnight Oil

by UnluckyMagician (Zendelai)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, And short tempers, But also food, But only a little, Chewie the wiener dog, Christmas, Concerts, Drinking, F/M, Finn/Poe is mostly background but sticks because I love them, Happy Ending, Lots of Music, M/M, Many surprises to come, Music, New Years, Occasional fluff, Phone Sex, Slow Burn, Table Sex, There will be yelling, and eventually sex, restaurant AU, ~angst~, ~edgy~ kylo ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-01-26 20:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12566024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zendelai/pseuds/UnluckyMagician
Summary: Rey has been a server at Maz's Cantina for years, and in spite of the angry customers and the kitchen staff who yell too often, she loves her job.That is, until Maz retires and sells the restaurant, and the new management have a collective stick up their collective asses.





	1. One of These Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shortystylee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/gifts).



> For my friend J, who continues to both inspire me and also make me incredibly unproductive. You're a wonderful friend and making me sink with this ship. 
> 
> I'm writing this on the fly so have no expectations about my posting schedule. That being said, I'd really like to finish this before TLJ.

Rey woke with a start to her phone blaring “Won’t Get Fooled Again” directly beside her ear. With a groan she rolled over, not bothering to check the call display or the time before she grumbled, “Finn.”

 

“Reybabe!” His standard greeting to her came out in its usual jumble. “Are you working today?”

 

She heard the clash of pans and a curse from the background of the other line. “Aren’t you there? Can’t you check the bloody schedule yourself?”

 

“Yeah, I guess, it’s just…” his voice fell to a hush, “Poe told me that we’re meeting the new management today.”

 

That woke her up. She wiped the gunk out of her eyes and muttered, “Really? Well, I’m the mid today. I’ll come in a little early.”

 

“Good. See you then.”

 

With that, the line disconnected. When Rey pulled the phone away from her ear to check the time, she saw that it was almost 10am. Accepting that, once again, she hadn’t slept much, she rolled out of bed and moved the whole 10 feet to the coffeemaker in her studio apartment, flicking it on. Setting her morning album to a somewhat energetic selection --  _ Out of Our Heads _ by the Rolling Stones -- she moved through her morning routine with somewhat more gusto than she usually mustered, Finn’s phone call lingering in her thoughts.

 

Today had an a large chance of either being one of the best -- or one of the worst -- days in her years of being a server at Maz’s Cantina. 

 

Stomach filled with coffee and eggs, teeth brushed, uniform donned, and hair pulled into its comfortable buns, Rey grabbed her backpack and her keys, leaving to retrieve her bike from the apartment building’s garage. 

 

The ride to work was quick and chilly, the fall day surprisingly brisk, her eyes watering as the cold air stung their corners. The leaves crackled beneath her tires as she rode on, grateful for the spot of sunlight that made its way beneath the clouds. 

 

After parking and locking her bike out front, she arrived at Maz’s at 11:30, half an hour before her shift started. Everyone was bustling more than usual in spite of the lack of tables, eager to please the new management. She spotted Poe behind the bar, wiping a glass down while he chatted jovially with a couple sharing a platter of nachos, the only customers in the place other than a single man in the dining area sipping a coffee while he read the paper. Generic soft rock was playing over the stereo, something she had heard a few too many times on the radio five years back. Poe and Rey exchanged waves as she made her way past the bar towards the kitchen in the back. The bar decorum was typical for their “bar and grill” style American food restaurant: random sports memorabilia and neon signs for various watered-down beer brands high up on the brick walls, high set stools lining the well-stocked bar with a few tables along the partition between the bar and dining areas, and televisions playing sports she didn’t care about dotting the corners. The Cantina building was old, the floors hardwood covered by shoddy carpet and most of the walls brick, the little bit of drywall painted a neutral slate grey. She passed the bathrooms, newly made gender neutral by heavy encouragement from Rey herself. 

 

The kitchen was quiet; the cooks were all cleaning their respective appliances and tools, keeping their noses down. No one wanted to stick out, not today; Rey breathed a short sigh of relief knowing that the cooks wouldn't be fighting, for the moment at least. The smells of deep fried food hadn’t permeated the kitchen yet, and it just smelled like generic cleaner on the stainless steel appliances. From behind the prep counter Finn looked up from chopping onions to wave at her excitedly; she smiled at him enthusiastically before dropping her bag off in her employee cubby tucked behind the kitchen. Sitting on the wooden bench provided, she changed her shoes from torn black and white Converse to her black work sneakers and donned her black work apron, filled with her changepurse, notepad, pens, and mints. When she stepped out, she found Maz was calling a meeting in the kitchen for all Front of House and Heart of House employees. 

 

In spite of Maz’s stature -- the top of her head barely reached Rey’s armpit, even though Rey herself was only 5’6” -- Maz had a personality and warmth that could fill a room. She was an expert at diffusing angry customers with her calm facade and confident smile. Although she had just turned 70, her eyes sparkled with a youthful joy behind wide-rimmed round glasses. Her hair was white and short, sticking up in every which way, and she almost always wore well-fitted pantsuits; today’s was as white as her hair. Even though she was always busy with the duties of owning and running a restaurant, she could most often be found helping with running plates to tables, or putting together salads in the kitchen, or seating tables, or making drinks. 

 

She was the best manager a person could ask for, and she was retiring. 

 

When everyone had gathered around Maz, every tired server and every harried-looking cook, she began to speak. “As you all know, I am retiring and have sold the restaurant to First Order Incorporated. It has been a joy and an honour working with all of you, but it is time for me to spend a little less time in a kitchen and a little more time on a beach.” Snickers rolled around the circle of employees, and Maz smirked back in response. “I won’t keep you all for long as you have jobs to do, but I would like to take a moment to introduce you to your new management.” Maz’s gaze went to the back: across from the employee cubbies was the manager’s office, and from there emerged three new faces. 

 

The first was a slight, red-headed man with a pinched expression like someone had smudged dogshit under his nose. He was surveying the employees with an expression of distaste that made the hairs on the back of Rey’s neck stand up. 

 

Behind him came a tall, imposing woman with a shock of cropped blonde hair. She appeared only slightly warmer than the red-headed man, managing a faint smile at the staff before stepping in place beside Maz, towering over the woman by over a foot. 

 

The last manager to appear felt almost familiar to Rey; it tickled the back of her mind in a way that she couldn’t place. He, too, was tall, taller than the blonde woman, adorned in a well-fitted black suit that was too clean to belong in a busy kitchen and shoes that rang on the tile floor as he approached them. His black hair was shinier and smoother than Rey’s had ever been. His hands were tucked in his pockets, but she knew if she could see them they would be well-manicured. Between the suit and the hair, she knew this man wouldn’t be the sort of hands-on manager that Maz had been, preferring to sit in his office reviewing inventory and customer reviews rather than assisting the staff. His gaze was dark, fixed on a point above all of their heads, and his lips were pursed in a way that Rey was not fond of. She exchanged glances with Finn, and from his furrowed brows she could see that he was thinking the same thing: this new manager was a tight ass if she had ever seen one. It was truly a damned pity that he had such a stick up his ass, because he would’ve been handsome otherwise: soft, pillowy lips, a slightly crooked nose that hinted towards a less-than-clean past, and brown eyes that maintained a softness in spite of his harried expression. It didn’t help that Rey had a thing for taller guys, especially ones with shoulders as broad as his. 

 

The trio lined up beside Maz, who appeared even more dwarfed than usual beside them. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet the new management. This is Brendan Hux, your new Heart of House manager.” She gestured to the redhead, and Rey was relieved for her own sake -- but not for Finn’s -- that he would be managing the kitchens. “This is Alex Phasma, your new Front of House manager.” The blonde woman at least had the kindness to nod at the staff. “And last but absolutely not least, your new GM, Kylo Ren.”

 

Rey felt like ice was sliding down her spine, and she couldn’t help but recoil at the name. Everyone was too polite -- or afraid -- to murmur, but they all knew exactly who the new general manager was. His reputation was as big as his damn nose: Kylo Ren had, for years, ran the most successful restaurant in town, Starkiller Bar & Grill, before a grease fire turned the place into ashes. The ex-employees quaked in fear when his name was uttered, and the kindest words that she had heard to describe him were “ruthless” and “slave driver”. 

 

His eyes met hers, and she felt rooted in place. His gaze was cold and unyielding, seeing straight through her. She felt like he was looking past her outward smiles, her “sorry for the inconvenience”s, her “I’ll get the manager”s. He was looking for something, drawing out something within her; the part of her that hated her job, that told Finn all the horror stories about customers, that retreated behind the restaurant to cry when customers had been especially cruel or a cook had screamed in her face for inputting an order incorrectly. He was seeking out her weaknesses, and the feeling left her raw and tired.

 

_ This guy _ was going to be her boss? She’d have to start brushing up on her resume. 

 

Ren looked back to Maz, and Rey realized that she had been speaking. “...So I expect you’ll all greet your new management warmly, and treat them as well as you’ve always treated me. Have a great shift, everyone.”

 

Maz retreated to the manager’s office with Ren, and Phasma and Hux stayed to read off the day’s specials and 86’d items to the staff. 

 

Rey’s gaze fell to her shoes, her stomach roiling uncomfortably. 

 

Evidently, today was going to fall under the category of “worst days”. 

 

\--

 

The lunch portion of Rey’s shift was hell. 

 

It wasn’t overly busy -- she kept steady with five tables at a time, most of them parties of four or less, most of them businessmen on their breaks. If she was to judge the lunch rush strictly by a table’s perspective, it would have been a success.

 

The problem was bloody Ren hounding her for two hours. 

 

The whole shift he hovered around the server’s stations, a dark shadow observing the every move of her and the rest of the servers on duty. The moment she stepped to the terminal to input her orders, he would hiss complaints into her ear. 

 

“Why didn’t you read the specials to table 104?”

 

“You didn’t upsell gravy on the side of fries for 106.”

 

“Use your seat numbers when inputting orders.”

 

“Did you just forget to bill table 110 for their iced tea? Do you  _ want  _ us to lose money?”

 

“Full hands in, full hands out, Rey. Stop leaving the kitchen empty-handed.”

 

At first she had responded to his remarks, muttering a quiet “yes, Kylo” or “right away, Ren”. She wasn’t a pushover but he was her new boss, and if she wanted to keep life from being completely miserable she had to respect him. 

 

But platitudes became more and more difficult as the day progressed. 

 

After the lunch rush died down and the lunch shift staff left, Rey was starving and she asked Snap, the mid cook, to make her a buffalo wrap. She only had two tables left, both of which were eating contentedly. The roll-ups were done, expo had been cleaned, condiments were organized, and everyone had vacuumed the carpets in their sections. She had even gone out of her way to ensure that the salt and pepper shakers at each table were topped up. 

 

Yet the moment she sat down in one of the booths in the back with her food in front of her, her stomach grumbling, Ren was at her side. 

 

“One of the guests at table 92 has finished eating. Clear their plates.”

 

Not bothering to swallow her food, she grumbled, “I’ll clean it in 5, I’m starving.”

 

He bent down so he was eye-to-eye with her. “Listen to me, scavenger. This place isn’t run by sweet little Maz anymore, it’s run by me. And customers don’t wait for you to finish eating while you’re on shift. So go. Clear. Their. Plates.” 

 

Her eyes never left his as she stood, so furious steam could have been coming out of her ears. She was 9 inches shorter than him but she stood as tall as she could, meeting his angry gaze with one of her own before she marched to the table, clearing the  _ fucking  _ plates and dumping them in the dish pit before heading back to her wrap. To her great dismay Kylo was still there, and she tried to keep the angry heat out of her cheeks when he stared her down.

 

“When you’re done eating, scrape the gum off the bottom of the tables.” Without another word he left a fuming Rey in his wake. 

 

\--

 

The dinner shift began, much to the same tune of the lunch shift. It wasn’t overly busy but Kylo seemed to be stalking the every move of the servers, just waiting for opportunities to send sharp jibes at them. 

 

As the mid shift server -- working the lunch and dinner shifts as well as the quiet bridge between them -- Rey was cut first after the dinner rush. She hadn’t seen Kylo for a while and thought he must have left without saying goodbye, which seemed par for the course for him. With her tables gone and only roll-ups left to do, she popped in an earbud so Janis could serenade away her garbage day. 

 

Almost instantly, Kylo was at her side. “No music during working hours.”

 

“I’m just doing roll-ups,” she grumbled. 

 

“And what if you miss a cook calling a hot pot right behind you? No. Music.”

 

She gritted her teeth, biting back the sharp retort that rose to her tongue. 

 

Yet he persisted. “Did you hear me, Rey? No music.”

 

She retorted, “I heard you, Ren. I’m just choosing to ignore you.”

 

His hand shot in front of her, pulling the earbud out of her opposite ear, before he growled, “My office. Now.”

 

Scathing, she dropped the cutlery and napkin she was rolling up and followed him; the eyes of every employee still on shift followed her, but she paid them no mind. She had half a thought to quit right then, but she needed the money for her rent, her food, her grandmother --

 

The door slammed behind her when they both stepped into the office. Kylo stood close, towering over her; this close, she could smell his cologne, spiced and dark. “You are a server.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to; she could tell this was the tone he had used to terrorize employees for years. It was deep, and low, and fucking holier-than-thou. “I am your manager. When I tell you to do something, I need you to do it. I don’t care if you disagree. Are we clear?”

 

Waiting for her reaction, he watched her; in return, she was unwilling to back down. She had worked in this industry for years, and one of the most important lessons she had learned was that she couldn’t let anyone step on her without running the risk of completely losing herself. When she was with customers, she could be apologetic and diminutive, but with other employees, she had to stand her ground lest she be trampled. 

 

Turning her chin up, she met Kylo’s sharp gaze with her own. “Have you looked at my sales numbers, Ren?”

 

That response seemed to startle him; his gaze narrowed and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Of course I have.”

 

“Then you know that I consistently sell more than any of the other servers. I’m able to take more tables on, and I upsell more drinks and add-ons than any of them. Do you really want to risk letting me go over an earbud?”

 

Their gazes remained locked, neither of them willing to back down. His gaze was searching, looking for weakness within her; hers remained hard, for she was bluffing a little, but it was worth it for the chance to gain a bit of his respect. If she didn’t do it now, her workplace would be miserable until she gave up and quit. 

 

Finally, Kylo acquiesced. “Only for roll ups.”

 

Jutting her chin towards him, she sniped back, “And dish pit.”

 

He rolled his eyes, but she knew she had won, this time. “Fine. For dish pit.”

 

Rey sauntered out of the office, considering today a victory. 

 

Tomorrow, though? Well, that was up for grabs. 


	2. Fearless

Who _was_ this girl?

 

This girl who had been so highly esteemed by Maz, who Maz had told Kylo was on a path towards a promotion to bartending? Who seemed to have endless charm and kindness towards customers, but seemed only able to get under his skin?

 

He had been a highly successful restaurant manager for years; he knew exactly what was needed to squeeze the highest profits out of a place. The fact that his methods didn’t make him any friends made them no less effective, and all of his employees and fellow managers knew it. It was why they all left him to his machinations, choosing instead to whisper behind his back about what an asshole he was (which he was completely aware of, and also accepting of).

 

Except for her.

 

 _She_ defied him.

 

 _She_ told him no. Twice, in fact, on his first day.

 

The first time he had won, but the second time she had, and that fact dug under his skin.

 

It hadn’t stopped there, either.

 

On his third day -- his second working with her -- he caught her dumping an almost full pot of decaf coffee down the sink.

 

“What are you doing?” he had snapped, marching over to where she was literally dumping money down the sink.

 

Without meeting his eyes, she started to prepare a fresh pot. “It’s 2pm, this decaf was made at 10:30. I’m making a fresh pot.” He hated her crisp accent, how smoothly the words flowed from her tongue.

 

“You threw out perfectly good coffee!”

 

Finally she turned to him, a brow raised. “You don’t drink coffee, do you?”

 

Truth be told, he didn’t, he had always been a tea man. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being right. “That doesn’t matter. You can’t throw product down the sink.”

 

“Did you go to business school?”

 

He reeled, shocked at her audacity. Was she _trying_ to get fired?

 

“If you did,” she continued, “you would know that it’s more expensive to get a new customer than to keep an old one. It will cost us more money if we lose this customer for serving them shitty coffee than if we lose the whole -- what, a dollar? -- dumping an old pot down the sink.”

 

And, damn her, she was _right_. Judging by her triumphant expression, she knew that she was, too. Even worse, she had the gall to continue.

 

“You know, decaf never sells that well. The opener shouldn’t make it anymore, we should just make it on request for customers. They won’t mind waiting an extra few minutes for fresh coffee.”

 

Kylo leaned in closer to her, catching just a hint of lavender from her hair. “As the manager, I make those decisions, not you.”

 

She had turned back to the coffee pot, flicking it on with a smirk and saying no more.

 

“Ren.”

 

He shook his head to bring his attention back to the present: Hux was demanding something of him, as he always did. Kylo wasn’t overly fond of the man, but he did an excellent job of running the kitchens, keeping the food wastage costs at a record low for First Order.

 

Hux said, “What are we going to do about this romaine lettuce wastage? By the time it gets here it’s half wilted and we end up throwing half of it out.”

 

Kylo leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on already. It was too fucking early for this. “Change suppliers. See what you can find for me locally. It’s worth paying an extra fifty cents a head if we don’t throw so damn much out.” He turned to Phasma. “And Alex? Tell the openers to stop making decaf first thing. It’s not selling enough, we’ll make it to order.”

 

Rey may get under his fucking skin and may be insubordinate, but he wasn’t going to be a complete fool out of sheer stubbornness.

 

Damn her.  

 

\--

 

It was Uno night at Finn and Poe’s. Thrilled to have so many visitors, BB was bouncing in circles and barking joyfully, her drool flying around her in large droplets. As usual, Snap brought the beer -- something organic and from a microbrewery -- and passed one to everyone. Jessika was always in charge of snacks, choosing today a charcuterie with goat cheese and wheat crackers, and Finn had whipped up a plate of bacon-wrapped asparagus and prosciutto with cantaloupe.

 

Poe and Finn’s apartment was small but tidy, a one-bedroom modern condo that they rented. Poe had a bit of an eye for interior design and it showed, from the neutral grey, white, and black colour schemes to the pops of colour from bright, seasonal flowers (kept on high shelves out of the way of BB’s curious teeth). A few modern pieces of art decorated the walls but they were otherwise kept blank, and the floors were hardwood. Their couch was a charcoal sectional, and instead of a TV in their living area they had a positively overflowing bookshelf. Finn and Jess were seated at the round, glass kitchen table, surrounded by rattan chairs. The kitchen was small, branching out of the living space, but all of the appliances were new and stainless steel, and the owner had opted for polished granite countertops. The whole package gave their place a very “downtown” vibe, even in their suburban setting.  

 

Rey was crouched in the corner, flicking through her iPod to choose an album for the night before settling on Deja Vu by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Poe leaned on the wall beside her, listening to her words with rapt attentiveness.

 

“Poe, he absolutely drives me nuts. He’s the worst boss I’ve ever had. How am I supposed to be a good server when he’s constantly hovering around? It’s just… God, Poe.” She shook her head. “I can’t even explain it. He just gets under my skin.”

 

“I know, sweetie. You’ve told me about it a dozen times today.”

 

Rey laughed, shaking her head faintly as she stood. “I’m insufferable, aren’t I?”

 

“You are.” Poe leaned across to gently press his lips to her forehead, and she sighed in contentment. “But I love you.”

 

“Love you too.” She did love Poe, in a strictly friendly sense, of course. He and Finn were like the brothers she had never had, right down to the teasing and the noogies. Besides, the two of them were the damn cutest couple she had ever seen, and Rey had accepted that with her unusual restaurant schedule it was difficult for her to meet anyone. Being single worked for her.

 

“Who’s ready to get their asses kicked in Uno?” Finn called from the table, shuffling the cards with a broad smile.

 

Poe rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Reyrey. Think about Uno instead of Kylo.”

 

She raised a doubtful brow at him, but smiled quickly. “That was awful, you know.”

 

\--

 

Underneath the dull glare of the street lights, Rey walked home alone. The night was cloudy, obscuring the stars, and the chill kept her hands dug firmly into her pockets and her chin tucked into her jacket.

 

She wondered what would happen if she quit Maz’s.

 

It had never been her dream to work at a restaurant. Maz’s had sort of… fallen into her lap. She was young, with no education beyond her high school diploma, earned without accolades. She had never worked before, spending all of her free time outside of school caring for her grandmother. But when her grandmother had to be moved into a home -- a home which needed to be paid for -- and Rey found an ad in the paper for a job fair at the new restaurant opening in town… well, she had leapt on the opportunity. She was the first one to arrive at the fair, before the doors had even opened, wearing her only dress pants and a button-down, and Maz had hired her on the spot as a hostess. Only a few months later, Maz had made her a server.

 

Being a server was rough at times. Too often, customers grew upset when their food was cold, or overcooked, or undercooked, or too salty. She would bring back the food to the cooks, who would slam the offending plate down while cursing the servers, as if she was the one who had complained about the food.

 

Then, of course, there were the days when they would experience unexpected rushes, where they’re understaffed and every food item went out late. When she was given ten tables at a time and couldn’t give her full attention to any of them, resulting -- again -- in angry customers and a tense kitchen. Cooks had gotten close to fistfights on those days, and she wasn’t the only server who had broken down into tears.

 

But with the bad days came the good. The days when everything went smoothly and all her tables left her good tips. The Christmas party two years ago where Poe had a few too many and finally, _finally_ , kissed Finn. That New Year's Eve last year when Maz closed the restaurant early so they could all have champagne and count down together, and Snap gave her such a big hug at the end of the night she almost passed out.

 

There’s a special relationship you can’t help but develop with those that you work at a restaurant with. It’s a product of surviving such a wild, high stress environment together, a friendship truly bourne of fire. She had the privilege of developing a closer group of friends than she had in her whole life: Finn, and Poe, Jess and Snap. They made the madness of her life, the late nights and twelve-hour shifts and days where she walked so much her feet almost fell off, worth it.

 

They make dealing with an awful boss worth it.

 

She finally reached her building, grateful for the warmth and respite from the overly quiet night. It was 1am, early for her standards, but as she was working the lunch shift the next day she decided to try to get some sleep. After brushing her teeth and prepping her coffee for the next morning, she crawled into her unmade bed, curling into a ball beneath the still-cool sheets.

 

Insomnia often plagued Rey, and tonight was no different. Even with blackout curtains, a white noise machine, and melatonin supplements, she could only stare at the ceiling, wishing sleep could come.

 

Her thoughts kept drifting to Kylo. Which was maddening, really, because thinking of him only made her blood pressure rise. But she couldn’t help but wonder how he became the man he was now. What had happened to make him so tense? Had anything even happened, or was it just who he was? Did he ever smile, did he ever laugh? What did that even _sound_ like?

 

She wanted to know.

 

She couldn’t explain why she wanted to know. It was foolhardy to want anything from Kylo other than her paycheque, otherwise she was setting herself up for disappointment.

 

But still, she couldn’t help but wonder… was Kylo Ren, the restaurant manager, nothing but a mask? Or was it truly who he was?

 

She rolled onto her side, wrapping her pillow around her head in a vain attempt to drown out her ridiculous thoughts.

 

No. His business was not hers to discover. He was her boss, and she was to treat him as such.

 

...Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi there, Kylo. Thanks for letting me jump into your head today.
> 
> And thanks everyone who read and commented! Y'all are the best.


	3. Wooden Ships

“Gram?” Rey whispered, before tentatively peeking her head into her grandmother’s room. 

 

From around the corner, she heard, “Rey, dear, is that you?”

 

“It is. Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.” Rey heard the whirr of her grandmother’s wheelchair before she appeared in the doorway, a bright smile lighting up her aging features. Her skin was soft and sallow and her white hair had grown thin and limp, but what still remained was long enough to brush the tips of her shoulders. In spite of her outward appearance, her blue eyes remained sharp and inquisitive as always. 

 

Rey bent down to hug her grandmother, remaining mindful of being gentle. Growing up with her grandmother, she had proven time and time again that she wasn’t a woman to be considered as fragile or frail; unfortunately, her body had other plans. She had quickly deteriorated after being diagnosed with MS five years back, and Rey knew it was sheer will keeping her as happy as she was while the degenerative disease took away more and more. 

 

After their embrace Rey took a seat on her grandmother’s bed so they could be eye-to-eye. The room was clinical and sterile in a way that always made her hairs stand on edge, and smelled too strongly of baby powder. The brightest spot in the room were the pink peonies Rey had brought the week before, still alive and well on the bedside table under the care of her grandmother’s green thumb. 

 

“How are things around here, Gram? Is the new nurse treating you well? Who won the bridge tournament?”

 

With a trembling hand, her grandmother waved away her inquiries. Rey always asked them, was always polite, but she knew the truth: her grandmother hated everything about living here. She hated having nurses, she hated bridge, she hated the food, she hated having to wear diapers. All of it was undignifying, turning a proud woman into a small child again. She went through the motions because she had no choice, clinging onto the only piece of her past that still cared about her -- Rey. 

 

Truth be told, Rey hated it too. She missed the days of her grandmother skittering around the house with her hands full, surrounded by friends’ laughter. When she thought of the younger version of her grandmother, she thought of a star burning so bright that she shed light on everything around her. But now she was fading, being eclipsed by a reckless and unforgiving illness, taking away every bit of her independence that she so deeply valued. Rey saw the same expression of hopelessness in so many others restricted to a home, and it made the whole place reek of desolation. 

 

“Tell me about you, darling. How’s the restaurant? And those new managers?”

 

Rey sighed, scrubbing her hand through her hair. “I miss Maz. The new GM… he’s just awful, Gram. He’s so… angry, all the time. It’s like watching a pot of pasta on the verge of boiling over and no one is around to turn it down. He disciplines me and the other employees constantly. He never smiles. He must be so… miserable.” The last word was soft, spoken more to herself than to her grandmother. 

 

Her grandmother nodded slowly. “I’ve met people like him before. Oftentimes, there’s something going on that we can’t see. A desire to succeed, yes, but there’s more, too. He shouldn’t take it out on you, but remember that he’s human, too. Try to look to him as an equal instead of an adversary. And if that doesn’t work… well, perhaps we’ll find a job opening for you here.”

 

Rey reached up to press a soft kiss on her grandmother’s cheek. “Thanks, Gram. Now, tell me again about the time grandpa showed up at your door wearing nothing but a tie and holding a bouquet of roses.”

 

\--

 

Rey was in the weeds.

 

She would have been running between her tables and the kitchen to save herself time if Kylo wouldn’t have had her head for it. And, of course, he was the manager on duty for this hellish and understaffed Thursday night. 

 

On top of the seven booths she was serving, she also had a walk-in party of twenty to deal with, half of which were kids who were running around the busy restaurant with parents who weren’t making even an inkling of an attempt to reign them in. She nearly tripped over one who was running in circles near the bathroom while she was carrying a tray full of hot soups. To make matters worse, one of the cooks had called in sick and they couldn’t find anyone to cover him so the kitchen was backed up, resulting in angry customers demanding their food. 

 

Thursday nights weren’t busy enough to usually necessitate an expeditor -- the person who was the line of communication between the kitchen and the servers, who ensured all the plates for a table went out at the same time and with the correct food on them -- so to assist in the madness Kylo was running the expo. At first it had been a relief for Rey, knowing that he wouldn’t be waiting for her at the server’s stands, but he grew more and more agitated as servers kept bringing back customer complaints and barely-eaten dishes. She could read his tension in his set jaw, his clenched fists, and his short words as he directed around servers and cooks. 

 

While she poured soda refills for her party of twenty, Rey listened to Snap call out, “Expo!”

 

“What?” Kylo snapped, ignoring the standard -- and polite -- response of “yes, chef”. 

 

“We need to 86 burgers. We’re completely out.”

 

Rey nearly leapt out of her shoes when Kylo’s bare palm slammed on the stainless steel counter, causing cutlery to rattle and a stack of take-out containers to topple off the counter, scattering on the ground. She wasn’t the only one to be shocked by his outburst; the whole kitchen fell to a hush, the only sounds the sizzling of pans and the beep of a timer. 

 

“Pick that up,” he snapped at her before stomping past the kitchen, fists clenched at his sides. The back door slammed behind him as he stepped outside in a whirlwind. 

 

She did as he asked, cleaning up the take-out containers, her thoughts reeling. It was always unsettling to watch a person lose their cool, even someone as hot-headed as Kylo. Even so, she was… worried about him. Taking a deep breath to brace herself, she followed his path through the back, opening the door gingerly.

 

Leaning on the rail outside he stood, staring into the filled parking lot. A trail of smoke escaped from between his fingers, and she watched as he lifted the cigarette to his lips, sighing on the exhale. 

 

Voice surprisingly quiet, he asked her, “Don’t you have tables to take care of?”

 

With a click, she shut the door behind herself, cutting out the blur of restaurant noise: cutlery scraping, pans clacking, cooks shouting, steaks sizzling. Out past the borders of the restaurant, she could hear the faint white noise of cars buzzing past and the crash of someone dumping garbage a few units over. Everything past the Cantina felt so foreign, so far away. The more time she spent there, the more the Cantina felt like its own little world. It felt harder and harder to escape, to separate herself from its draw. 

 

Ignoring his question, she gently asked, “Kylo, are you okay?”

 

At first, he didn’t respond. He took another long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke out of his nose like a bull. She expected he was going to scold her for not doing her job, for taking time away from her tables during this madness; instead he turned to face her, and she found softness in the corners of his eyes, even with his lips still turned down into a frown. “...Yeah,” he muttered, and she swore she could see his lips turn up, just a little. “Get back in there. You have tables.” 

 

Although his words were hard his tone was soft, and feeling marginally better about her shit evening Rey left him to his devices, returning to the madhouse. 

 

\--

 

What a fucking shit night.

 

Kylo was hunched over his desk in the manager’s office, feverishly reviewing the sales reports. It would have been a good night if he didn’t have to comp so many damn meals, and likely lose so many customers.

 

Fucking burgers.

 

He regretted losing his temper. He always tried so hard to reign it in, a task in its own considering how stressful restaurant management was, but today had been too much for his self-restraint. 

 

Regret wasn’t a new feeling for him. Neither was the loss of his composure. But it stung, nonetheless. 

 

Of all things, three words had been a flicker of light in a miserable evening.

 

_ Are you okay? _

 

He tried to recall the last time someone had asked him that, and failed. 

 

Seven years now he had been a manager, and in those years his career had become his life. At Starkiller, he had started as a server at nineteen while he worked on his hospitality degree. He was promoted to bartender when he was twenty-one, and part-time supervisor at twenty-two. When one of the managers quit, he took her place two years later. The position was rewarding, yes: he was able to run a successful restaurant, he was able to work directly under Snoke which gave him the chance for upper management at First Order in the future, and the pay wasn’t awful. He wasn’t there to make friends, and he had long ago accepted that fact, but even still…

 

_ Are you okay? _

 

Feeling like someone cared, for just a moment, made the day feel that much less awful. 

 

Was it sad that he held so much regard for three words? Likely. But he knew precisely why he did. He knew it was the high school friends, who didn’t bother to keep in touch when he moved a few towns over. He knew it was the college friends, whose “let’s get together soon!” promises never came to fruition. He knew it was the dates who said “I’ll call you later!” and never did. He knew it was his parents, who forgot to come to his college graduation. He knew it was Snoke, the mentor who only seemed to look down upon him with a sneer. 

 

There was a soft knock at his door, and he nearly leapt out of his seat. He was frowning when he opened the door, but he felt his mouth soften when he saw it was Rey. He immediately felt embarrassed by the response.

 

She looked exhausted, her brown eyes bloodshot and dark beneath. “Just wanted to say goodnight,” she murmured, her thumbs hooked through her backpack that was on over a heavy plaid coat. 

 

“Goodnight, Rey.”

 

“You know…” She took a tentative step closer to him. “We should really have an expeditor on Thursday nights.”

 

“Who’s the manager here?” His question was snappy, but he followed it with the faintest of smiles.

 

She shrugged, her backpack jostling with the movement. “Ask Phasma, who told us to stop making decaf coffee when we open.” 

 

With that, she turned on her heel and left; he caught her smirk out of the corner of his eye. 

 

_ Damn this girl. _

 

_ Damn her to hell.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 86 = Ran out of an item


	4. Lake Effect

“Reyrey,” Poe called from the bar, “are you almost done? I can give you a ride home.”

 

She poked her head around the dining room partition, sending a grateful smile to Poe, who was seated at one of the booths doing liquor inventory. “That would be amazing. I wasn’t looking forward to walking home in the snow.”

 

Rey loved the look and the feel of snow, how clean it made the world feel and the brightness of a fresh blanket of snow in the morning. She also hated the cold and strapping her bike chains on to ride it headfirst into frigid winds, so she often walked or took the bus to work in the winter months. When the opportunity arose, however, rides were greatly preferred. 

 

“Give me fifteen,” Poe told her.

 

“I’m just going to get changed!”

 

Rey scooted to the back of the restaurant, past the pristine and empty kitchen and into the cubby area. She sat on one of the provided benches, pulling out her change purse and her sales report to calculate her cashout. 

 

It hadn’t been a bad night, steady but not busy. Her party of eight had tipped her generously; after double-checking, she breathed a sigh of relief knowing she finally would have enough this month to buy a new pair of work shoes. She had nearly worn through the sole of hers, and the smell of deep-fried food had completely permeated them. 

 

She was about to change when she was startled by the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from Kylo’s office. Peeking around the corner, she spotted the back of a stranger, bald and cloaked in black. He was small, appearing shorter than her, but even from a distance she could see that his presence was filling the manager’s office as he towered over Kylo who was seated before him. The man’s words were muffled by the glass of the closed door, but his tone was one of severe disapproval, the sort of tone she had been on the receiving end of when she was a student in high school performing poorly. The man’s voice rose, and she caught snippets of his words:

 

“These sales numbers are an embarrassment.”

 

“The beer spillage is completely unacceptable.”

 

“These meal comp percentages are completely absurd, Ren. Get your kitchen under control so they stop sending out shit dishes.”

 

Rey couldn’t help herself; she knew she shouldn’t be listening, she knew it wasn’t her business, but at the same time she knew it was. The man was talking about  _ her  _ restaurant after all, and  _ her  _ sales numbers. This had to be a higher-up within First Order, she thought, either some sort of regional manager or even higher; truth be told, she knew little about the company which now owned her restaurant, and she had no idea how large it was.

 

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that the way this man talked to Kylo reminded her of the way that Kylo talked to her. 

 

It had to explain some of Kylo’s behaviour; those who bullied were often bullied themselves. It was obvious now that Kylo was under a great amount of pressure to succeed by the company. It only made sense that he couldn’t take this criticism without needing to urge his employees to perform, even if he did so too harshly. 

 

The man spun and the door swung open, so she quickly busied herself with counting her cashout and float a third time. He seemed to pay no mind to her, sweeping out the back door and slamming it behind him. She had caught barely a glance of his face, but she could spot a broad scar that intersected his forehead and an expression like he had an even larger stick jammed up his ass than Kylo or Hux did.

 

_ What must it be like to be that miserable?  _ She wondered. 

 

After the man left, her eyes darted back to the office. Kylo was still seated, unmoving. Gone was the confident set of his shoulders, the clench in his jaw, the determination in his gaze. He was a man diminished 

 

Rey had been working with Kylo for nearly two months now, and the expression he wore now was an entirely new one: defeat. It showed in his gaze, directed at the floor, eyes covered by his long hair; his shoulders, slumped forward; his long fingers, resting between his knees. 

 

“Rey!” Poe called from the kitchen. “You ready?”

 

Swiftly she gathered her cashout and approached Kylo’s office, dropping it on his desk with her sales report. In a low voice she asked, “Everything alright?” 

 

“Yeah.” The single word was sharp and clipped. He spun his chair to face his desk again, pulling her cashout and his calculator towards himself. 

 

Rey didn’t want to push it further, so she backed out of the office with a frown planted on her face. 

 

“Well… goodnight.” Feeling deeply unsettled she followed Poe out the door and into the night.

 

\--

 

BB was bounding through the snow, her fluffy butt flying through the air as she leapt high, trying to catch the gently falling snowflakes in her mouth. Finn had wrapped a fashionable red and white scarf around her neck, which was dragging on the ground at her feet. 

 

“I love corgis,” Finn muttered, shaking his head in admiration as he watched BB play. 

 

Rey knew that Poe had rescued BB years ago, when he found her as a waterlogged puppy in a ditch. He put signs up around the neighborhood and reported her as found to the humane society, but when no one came to claim her, Poe took her under his wing. Rey was unsure why the previous owner would abandon her, but she was certain that Poe was the best owner BB could have dreamed of. Poe absolutely spoiled her, giving her more walks, rubs, treats, and, judging by her pudge, food, than she would have with anyone else.

 

Then, of course, Finn came along, taking the place of BB’s second parent. Now, BB was sweet, kind, caring, and trusting. She was a scoundrel, of course, stealing any food that was left out on a counter for more than five minutes, and she had an odd obsession with toilet paper, but she was a wonderful dog and Rey loved spending time with her.

 

Which was why Finn had invited Rey to the dog park on a sunny but chilled Wednesday. BB had run off to meet with a group of dogs, and Rey and Finn walked slowly around the perimeter of the park, fresh snow crunching beneath their boots, mittened hands wrapped around steaming cups of fresh coffee. 

 

“Finn, something… strange happened at work last night.”

 

He raised a brow to her. “Everything at our work is strange.”

 

“I mean  _ stranger _ . I was in the back, finishing up for the night, and a man came into Kylo’s office and yelled at him for ten minutes. Something about… sales numbers and spillage and meal comps, I couldn’t quite hear all of it. After he left, Kylo looked so defeated. I felt awful.”

 

Finn snorted. “Kylo should be yelled at. He’s an ass.”

 

“But… do you think he’s always so angry and stressed because he has this guy on his back?”

 

Finn stopped, placing a firm hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Reybabe. You keep thinking everything is broken and waiting to be fixed. You need to accept that some things are just… the way that they are, and you can’t change that.”

 

Taken aback, she blinked rapidly. “Finn, I--”

 

“Rey,” Finn interrupted, “do what you want, but remember that this guy is our boss, not our friend. And with your grandma, you have enough on your plate. You don’t need to take on an asshole because you feel bad for him.” 

 

Anger rushed through her, fast and strong, and she spun away from him. “I can make my own decisions. And I think Kylo might need a friend.”

 

Finn shrugged. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, I trust you.” Rey felt herself deflating at his words. “Besides, if you get him to cool down a bit it could be good for all of us.” 

 

She nodded triumphantly before making her way towards BB again. 

 

“But, seriously, Rey…” She angled her head towards Finn. “You think about this guy way too much. We need to get you a new hobby. Maybe knitting? Crocheting?”

 

Laughing, she playfully smacked his arm. She had to admit that Finn was right: she  _ did  _ think about Kylo too much. Maybe she should draw again, to get her mind off of things. 

 

Finn ran off to chase BB, and with a giggle, Rey followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter, but the next arc is going to be a long one and I didn't want to cut it off halfway through.  
> As a result, the next chapter will be longer and may take me a few more days to get out. I hope to have it posted early next week, if not earlier.


	5. Lost in the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T KNOW HOW SECURITY SYSTEMS WORK OK

Snap and Rey were leaning against the bar, chatting easily with Poe. Although Kylo would normally skin them for slacking off during work hours, that Monday night had been so quiet that they had all fully completed their pre-closing tasks and cleaning duties by 11:30, half an hour before closing time. Rey had probably made a grand total of $30 in tips that night, but frankly, she didn’t mind. It was refreshing to have a quiet evening for once. 

 

The door opened, and their three heads snapped forward. Rey let out a sigh of exasperation when six teenagers walked in, dragging in mud from their snow-covered boots. All of them were wrapped tightly in scarves, hat, gloves, and coats, staving off the early December near-blizzard conditions. That night’s hostess, Jess, had been sent home hours ago, so Rey approached the party to seat them. Behind her, she heard Poe quietly cheer and Snap groan when they asked to be seated in the dining area. 

 

Rey always hated serving teenagers: they were often rude and awful tippers. In spite of the late hour of arrival, this table proved to be surprisingly polite, ordering only salads, sandwiches, and sodas. Their food wasn’t ready until nearly midnight, so Poe and Snap had their respective areas cleaned and closed before the table left. As teenage boys are wont to do, they ate quickly and they even left her a sizable tip for staying late. 

 

She was wiping down the table when Kylo emerged from the back, quietly assisting her with putting chairs up so that the cleaning crew could come by in the morning to clean the carpets. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one ready to have an early night. 

 

“Almost finished?” He asked her in a low voice when she was wiping down the table. 

 

“Just have to put the last chairs up and do my cashout,” she responded. 

 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he said gently, and she felt her heart warm. “You shouldn’t walk home in these conditions.” 

 

Kylo turned the radio off, and Rey was grateful for the quiet. The music that they played was cookie-cutter quality, the sort of soft rock that could almost be qualified as elevator music, and she was often tired of hearing the same damn songs daily. With the kitchen completely shut down, the only sound now was the clack of Kylo’s dress shoes against linoleum as he paced, waiting for her to finish the last of her tasks, which she did as quickly as possible. 

 

Changed and wrapped in her full winter garb -- gray woolen mittens, blue knit hat and matching scarf, and a black parka -- she waited by the back door while Kylo input the security code in first the safe and then the door with deft fingers. He looked significantly more fashionable than her, even for the cold, wearing a long black slim-fitting coat with a white scarf tucked in the neck. 

 

While Kylo was inputting the code, the few orange emergency lights that were always on flickered, and then went out entirely. 

 

Kylo paused, hand hovering over the keypad, before grumbling, “Shit.”

 

Rey slid her mittens off and fumbled for her phone in her pocket, turning the flashlight on. When she illuminated Kylo, she found his lips turned down in a sharp frown. “What is it?”

 

“It’s the security.” His hand fell to his side with a slap. “It’s programmed to lock the doors if there’s a blackout after hours.”

 

“Okay, well how do you unlock the door?”

 

“I’ll have to call the security company.” He let out a short sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose while he reached into his pocket for his cellphone. She watched as he dialed a number, bouncing his toe off the ground as he listened, and then threw the phone to the ground only moments later, sending it skittering into the darkness of the kitchen with a clack. He growled, “They’re fucking closed. I’m firing them tomorrow. What kind of security company closes after hours?”

 

Worry began to rise up in Rey, and she fought to keep her voice down in the silence. “So… what’s plan B?”

 

“There is no plan B,” he snapped. “The door won’t even open from the outside. We have to wait until the power comes on, or call the security company when they open at 8 tomorrow.”

 

“We’re locked in.” Her words were deadpan and humourless, frustration rising within her. She did not want to be locked in the fucking restaurant with Kylo Ren until fucking 8am. 

 

Through the jarring light of her cellphone she saw him turn to her, his expression equally humourless. “Yes.”

 

She gnawed at her lower lip, trying to find a way out of this. She could call Finn and Poe, but what would that do? They could break a window, she supposed, but she doubted Kylo would forgive them for that transgression, even if it meant getting him out of there. The same applied to Hux and Phasma, who were likely sleeping as they were opening together the next morning. The restaurant was in a populated area, the hydro company had to be trying to restore power already. 

 

There was no point being angry about it. They were stuck, and for the moment she couldn’t think of a damn thing to do about it. 

 

She couldn’t help herself: a laugh pealed out of her lips, so strong it was more of a guffaw, and Kylo regarded her with an expression like she had slipped into madness. 

 

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do, then.” 

 

“What’s that?”

 

\--

 

She had lost it.

 

Fuck, he must be losing it already, too. 8am tomorrow, whether the power came on or not, he was going to be on the phone with the security company, reaming out their manager. Someone there was going to be fired tomorrow, he would make sure of that. The thought gave him some comfort, but not much. 

 

For the moment, he knew he had two options: he could follow the bobbing light of Rey’s cellphone flashlight to wherever the hell she was going, or he could sit alone in the darkness of his office. There wasn’t a single part of himself that wanted to be here, but if he had no choice, he might as well have company. 

 

So he followed her into the bar, where the streetlights seeped in through the windows to give it some semblance of light. Already Rey was behind the bar, coat thrown aside carelessly, crouched down to look for something within one of the fridges, bottles clinking in the silence. “What are you doing?” he called to her, even though he knew the answer already.

 

She popped up, two bottles of beer in her hands. “Come on, you think we’re going to suffer through this sober?”

 

He frowned, once again weighing his options. It technically wasn’t against company policy, as neither of them were on the clock and he could easily inventory and pay for what they drank once the power was back. It felt wrong and it felt immoral, but damn if he didn’t want to be drunk right now. 

 

“Don’t be a tightass,” she chided with a smile, waving the beer bottle in his face. 

 

“ _ Don’t _ call me a tightass,” he snapped, snatching the beer bottle out of her hand and opening it with a churchkey from his keyring. He took a long drink from it -- it was something domestic and watered-down, far from his first choice -- and when he placed the bottle down, he saw Rey smiling at him from over the lip of her beer bottle. 

 

Looking away from him with a smirk, she muttered, “Still a tightass,” before taking another long swig of her beer.

 

“Still your boss,” he reminded her with a snap, but she only let out a gentle laugh at his threat. He shucked his coat off his shoulders, hanging it up on a coat hanger beside a nearby booth.

 

She was a terrible employee. He could have fired her for that. But he didn’t -- no, he was smiling faintly instead before covering it up with another long drink. He hated this trapped situation that they were in, but he supposed he’d rather be with a wiseass like here than most of the other employees that were as interesting as a bowl of plain oatmeal. 

 

“So,” Rey began, “if we’re going to be stuck here I’d rather talk than sit in silence. So, how long have you been a manager for?”

 

Kylo took another long drink of his beer; he was already almost through the first bottle and he was starting to feel lighter. Drinking wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he hadn’t had anything to eat since before he started his shift at 4pm. Even though company policy was that management received a free meal every shift, he hated most of the deep fried garbage that they churned out. “Seven years,” he finally responded. “You?”

 

“I’m not a manager.” He rolled his eyes at her response, while she just smirked and took another drink. “I’ve been here for five years. Serving for most of that, hosted for a few months first. Did you start in kitchen or Front of House?”

 

“Front,” he responded, watching her eyebrows rise in surprise. “What, surprised I’m good with customers? Wouldn’t be a manager if I wasn’t. I was a server first, then bartender, then supervisor.” 

 

“Did you go to college?”

 

“I have my degree in hospitality management, got it while I was serving. You?”

 

A faint frown flickered across her features, but she covered it by bending down to grab more beers, passing one to Kylo. He watched her throat bob as she took another long swig before responding, “No. Couldn’t afford it, and my grades weren’t good enough to get me any scholarships.” 

 

Now he was the one frowning. Everyone deserved the chance to go to college, and it was a pity that such a smart woman was stuck in this job because of money. “Is that why you’re a server?” he asked. 

 

“Yup.” She curled her lips in and popped the “p”. “Best paying job for someone without a college degree.”

 

“Too bad it’s a shit job,” he murmured, and she let out a bark of a laugh in response. He had heard her laugh many times before with coworkers, but this was the first time  _ he  _ had made her laugh. The sound warmed his toes. 

 

No, it wasn’t her laugh. It was the beer, he reminded himself. She was an employee, and an insubordinate one at that. 

 

For a moment she paused, fixing a watchful gaze on him, the lip of her beer bottle resting on her lower lip. “Kylo…” she took another swig, placing the empty bottle down with a clack on the bar. He was surprised she had already gone through two, he was only a quarter of the way through his second. “Why  _ do  _ you work here? It’s obvious you don’t enjoy this job, and being a manager seems miserable. You’re educated, you could get any job you wanted.”

 

Anger, sharp and hot, flared in his chest, and his grip on the bottle in his hand tightened. He opened his mouth to discipline her, tell her she had no right to speak to him like that --

 

But when he looked into her eyes, he didn’t see defiance, he saw  _ worry _ . His thoughts flickered back to earlier in the week, when Snoke had been by to ream him out and Rey had been there, in his office, just moments afterwards. She had to have heard Snoke. She had to know. 

 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She had  _ no right _ to be so kind, not to him. He wasn’t some kind of… charity case who needed her pity. He chose this job, and he chose to be a hardass so that he -- and the restaurant -- could be successful. He chose this life, he chose this loneliness. 

 

Right?

 

“Do you know who Leia Organa is?”

 

Of their own volition the words tumbled out of his lips. He wanted to blame it on the beer, on the solitary nature of their situation, on anything but the kindness in her eyes and the fact that he knew, deep down, in the darkest parts of himself, he  _ really needed someone to talk to _ . 

 

Damn her.

 

“Leia Organa? As in, celebrity chef Leia Organa?”

 

He needed a cigarette. “That would be her,” he muttered. “She’s… my mother.”

 

Rey’s eyebrows shot up, and her lips formed a soft ‘o’. 

 

“She… started as a chef at Hoth, where she met my father, who was bartending. She eventually started opening her own restaurants, including Starkiller. So I started there.” Kylo shrugged. “A couple of years later she retired. First Order bought all of her restaurants, and I kept working there.” 

 

Rey leaned close, smelling strongly of beer and faintly of mint, and whispered conspiratorially, “But what would you do if your mom hadn’t owned restaurants? What’s your dream job?”

 

He leaned away, frowning. He didn’t know the answer to her question. Or, he did, but was afraid to admit it to himself, nevermind her. 

 

Restless, he stood up and began to pace. He hated the way that she got into his head, finding quickly the most uncomfortable areas of his thoughts, the parts of himself he preferred not to explore. The things he had buried long ago under layers of drinks and denial. 

 

Her gaze followed him, darting side-to-side with his steps. 

 

He needed a cigarette.

 

“I need a cigarette.”

 

So quietly he was unsure if he actually heard it, she snorted.

 

“I can’t smoke in here,” he growled in frustration. 

 

Rey held one finger up and darted out from behind the bar, jogging into the kitchen with her phone flashlight in front of her. Kylo waited for her, stopping to take a few more swigs, listening to her rustle around in the far back.

 

Moments later she returned, presenting an empty roll of toilet paper stuffed with dryer sheets to him. 

 

It was a spoof. 

 

Now it was his turn to laugh, which made her smile. 

 

“Just puff into the bathroom vent,” she told him. 

 

“You don’t smoke, how do you know about this?”

 

She shrugged noncommittally, but he spotted the tips of her ears turning pink. “I was… reckless in high school.”

 

Finishing off his drink before grabbing the spoof from her, he grumbled, “I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

 

\--

 

Ten minutes later, feeling marginally better, Kylo returned to the bar. Rey had obviously been busy in his absence: she had hung up her coat, pulled out two fresh beers, put out a few candles off of tables to give them better lighting, and had two pieces of cheesecake out that she must have grabbed out of the kitchen. 

 

She looked beautiful in the candlelight, and he cursed himself for thinking that. 

 

“I was a little hungry, so…” she waved in the direction of the desserts. “I hope this is ok.”

 

Truth be told, he was hungry too. Taking the seat before her, he began to dig in, and she did the same. 

 

When he finished, he washed the sweetness down with a heady chug of beer. His head spun from drink. Taking a deep breath, he said to her, “A chef.”

 

Mouth full of food, she managed to mutter an inquisitive “Hmm?”

 

“My dream job.” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting towards one of the windows where he could still see snowflakes falling outside. It felt like a whole other world outside of the restaurant they were locked in, the night dark and the snowfall bright. “I’d want to be a chef. I love to cook.”

 

“What’s stopping you?”

 

“When your mother is one of the best chefs in the world, it’s a lot to live up to. I’d never be as good as her.”

 

Digesting both the information and her food, she nodded slowly. “Can’t blame you for that. Still think you should do it, though.” 

 

“...Maybe.” He wondered what Rey would think of his cooking; he couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked for anyone but himself. “What about you?”

 

“Oh, I can’t cook at all,” she said with a laugh, “unless you count ramen noodles and grilled cheese as cooking.”

 

“You don’t,” was his deadpan response. 

 

“I’d open a bike store, then.” Kylo could see a faint glint in her eyes when she said it, something that looked to him like hope. It quickly disappeared as she pursed her lips and took a drink to wash down her dessert. 

 

“And what’s stopping  _ you _ ?”

 

Her weight shifted from foot-to-foot, fidgeting uncomfortably. So, he wasn’t the only one whose career was a sore spot. She surprised him when she said, “My grandmother.”

 

“What of her?”

 

“She’s… ill. I have to pay for her to stay in a care facility since her pension doesn’t cover all of the costs.”

 

“And your parents?”

 

“Long dead. I moved here from England when I was six, and my grandmother raised me.” 

 

Immediately he felt awkward for asking, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

“Don’t be. I don’t remember them. And I’m grateful that I still have my Gram.” 

 

Shame, white hot, flooded through him, and he looked away from her. As a child, he had been a monster and a troublemaker. Who was he kidding, he was still those things as an adult. And before him stood Rey, growing up with nothing, setting aside her dream to care for her only family. 

 

She was a better person than he could ever hope to be. 

 

When he looked back, her expression had changed completely: gone was the woe in her pinched brows and downturned mouth, and a soft, playful smile pulled at her lips instead. “Enough of the heavy stuff. What’s your favourite colour?”

 

\--

 

Kylo was well and truly drunk.

 

It was irresponsible, it was reckless, and it was stupid, but it was also fucking  _ fun _ . For the better part of an hour, they had been swapping server stories of horrible tables, and he was laughing so hard that his sides ached. 

 

He hadn’t laughed that hard in…

 

Well, ever, really. 

 

Rey was laughing too, at the moment covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes pinched with tears streaming from the corners. 

 

She was beautiful.

 

“I can’t,” she huffed between gales of laughter. “No more, please, my abs hurt.” 

 

Their shared laughter began to abate, and they both sighed. “Kylo,” she said, “there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

She directed him to sit in one of the booths before she scooted into the kitchen, returning a few moments later carrying a full tub of chocolate ice cream and two spoons. 

 

“It’s going to melt anyways, so…”

 

Again, he was laughing. It felt  _ so good _ to laugh this much. He was trapped inside his workplace with no power, no heat (half an hour prior, they had both put their coats back on), and no music, but he didn’t mind, not in the least. 

 

With a giggle she plopped into the booth next to him as he peeled the lid off the ice cream. They dug in together, both paying no mind to manners. 

 

He wished every day could be like this. 

 

He wished every day could be this  _ happy _ .

 

But… she was his employee. He was her manager. When the next day rolled around, that was all they would be again. Not drunken buddies eating ice cream together, confessing their dreams to each other. 

 

Suddenly he was no longer hungry and he was much more sober. 

 

Seeing his crestfallen expression, Rey swallowed down a mouthful of ice cream and put her spoon down. 

 

“This doesn’t have to stop,” she said softly. “We don’t have to get locked in a building together to get along.”

 

Feeling her gaze on him he turned, and she was closer than he expected. She looked so worried that he wanted to lie and tell her it would be fine, they could be friends, they just wouldn’t have to tell anyone. Part of him wanted that but a bigger part knew that she was happy without him, happy with her friends and her grandmother; she was honey and he was poison, only able to throw a wrench into the already delicate balance of her life. If they were friends, he’d have to demand secrecy, for otherwise he could lose his job. And if he went easy on her at work, it would only draw suspicion to himself, and to her. 

 

Another part of him imagined being able to spend more time with her. Imagined inviting her out to a movie, talking about their families over coffee. He imagined inviting her out to dinner, picking her up at her place, him wearing a button down and her wearing a dress and makeup with her hair down, thanking her for a lovely evening and then kissing her goodnight --

 

No. That was not a path he would go down. Friendship was too much as it was, anything more was a dream, where someone more worthy belonged. 

 

“Rey, I --”

 

His thoughts were interrupted as the lights around them flickered on, the restaurant swiftly coming to life around them. Fridges behind the bar and in the kitchen groaned to life, water began to rush through the pipes, the fluorescent light bulbs buzzed faintly. 

 

“The power!” she cried, standing up out of the booth. “I can shower and go to bed!”

 

Getting up out of his seat, he felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. He, too, was grateful that he would be able to shower and sleep in his own bed tonight, but he was also disappointed that this fragile thing that had developed between them that night would be over. 

 

She looked up at him, smiling faintly. “You know, Kylo, not everything has to be as complicated as you think. Let’s just work on being less assholes to each other, ok?”

 

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips; she was so damn charming that he couldn’t help it. He felt the words, “I can do that,” slip out of his lips. 

 

“Let’s share a cab home. I don’t think either of us should be driving.” She had grabbed her coat and was already making her way towards the back door. “Especially since I don’t have a driver’s license.”

 

“How old are you again? 17?” he teased, and he heard her sharp laughter before she put her phone to her ear, calling a cab.  

 

It had been a bizarre night, but not a bad one. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note: a spoof is a toilet paper roll stuffed with dryer sheets, you blow into it to neutralize the smoke smell. 
> 
> Have a great weekend y'all, hoping to have another chapter up on Monday!


	6. Fire

“Rey, come into my office.” 

 

Finn shot Rey a ‘look who’s in trouble’ look with raised brows and a downward tilt of his chin, and she did her best to look sheepish. 

 

She knew, though, that this was only a front for a social call. Since the lock-up incident Kylo would pull her into the office on occasion, not to discipline her like in days past but to ask her about her day. They weren’t yet what she would call ‘friends’ and she still hadn’t see him outside of work, but they were… cordial now, at least. It was a hell of a lot better than it had been before. 

 

Rey stepped into the small manager’s office, and Kylo shut the door behind her before taking a seat in his black leatherback office chair, shuffling a few papers in front of him.

 

“You’ll be closing the restaurant tonight.” 

 

It wasn’t a question or a request, it was a command, and she bristled. He hadn’t even been brave enough to look her in the eyes while he said it.

 

“Excuse me?” she snapped. 

 

“Jess has never closed before, and Ami just called in sick. I need you to do it.”

 

“Are you serious?” She leaned towards him, trying to at least get him to respect her enough to look her into the eyes, but he dutifully gazed at the paperwork in front of him, looking like he wanted nothing more than for her to leave the office. “I worked the mid today. I’ve been here since noon, and you expect me to stay until past midnight? I have to open tomorrow!”

 

One of his hands was on the arm of his chair and she watched his grip tighten until his knuckles went white. His control was crumbling, and she didn’t care. “I’m your manager, Rey, and I’m telling you that you’re closing the restaurant.”

 

All this time spent being cordial to each other, gone out the window. Friendship -- or at least a mutual understanding -- was gone. Instead, he was Kylo again, Kylo the asshole manager, Kylo the menace. “I’m your employee, Kylo, and I’m telling you no. Get someone to come in and cover for Ami.”

 

Kylo’s eyes closed in what she presumed to be exasperation, and thinking that she had won, Rey turned on her heel to leave the office. The moment that she did, she felt his height looming behind her and his hand slipped around her wrist. 

 

Fire, white hot, burned in her stomach and on her wrist where he was touching her. His grip was gentle, only enough to keep her from leaving, but it infuriated her nonetheless. Whip-quick she spun again, her teeth bared. He was close, so much closer than she expected, so close she could count every freckle and mole that dotted his smooth skin, so close she could smell cigarettes and his cologne, something smoky and dark. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and when she looked into his eyes she saw no anger was there, only heat. 

 

She hated him for trying to intimidate her using his stature. 

 

She hated herself for wanting him to push her against the door, for the heat that pooled between her legs. 

 

Challenging him with her gaze, she hissed in a low voice, “Let go of my hand.”

 

Like he was branded he dropped her hand and stepped back, shame clouding his features. 

 

“I’ll fucking close for you.” The words were cool and hard, but her cheeks were flaming red. “So much for us not being assholes to each other.”

 

With that she left, the door slamming behind her.

 

\--

 

In the days following their argument, Rey was professional to Kylo and nothing more.

 

He felt like a complete fool. 

 

She had extended an olive branch of kindness to him, showed him that she cared, and in return he had been a complete and utter asshole just because he had been stressed over being down an employee.

 

He didn’t deserve her friendship, or her kindness. But like a spoiled child he still wanted it, wanted something that he had but had shoved aside. 

 

An apology was the first step to fixing this, he knew, but the moment never seemed right. Someone was always around, or Rey gave her cashout to Phasma, and he wouldn’t push her, not again. 

 

That Sunday lunch shift, nearly a week later, he thought that he might finally have an opportunity. Rey was working the open shift and Ami the mid, and like most Sunday afternoons the staff was small otherwise, with Poe on the bar and two cooks in the kitchen. 

 

When the small lunch rush died out around 2, Kylo told Rey that she had been cut for the day before retreating into his office to review inventory while awaiting her cashout. While he was waiting the phone rang, and knowing there was no hostess he took the call. 

 

“Maz’s Cantina, how may I help you?”

 

It was a woman’s voice on the other line, the calm and collected tone of someone who spent too much time on the phone. “I’m looking for a Miss Rey Kenobi.”

 

Kylo was surprised: no one had called the restaurant looking for Rey before, and he knew she had a cellphone number, even if cellphone use on shift was strictly forbidden. “One moment.”

 

He left his office to search for her in the restaurant; he found her seated at the otherwise empty bar, quietly doing roll-ups with Poe. 

 

He remembered how beautiful she had looked that night in the bar under candlelight, and he felt the tips of his ears warm. 

 

“Call for you, Rey. Line 1.”

 

Her brows flickered downwards in an expression of concern that she quickly hid before heading to the phone at the front. Curiosity won over sense and Kylo followed her. 

 

“Hello?” She twirled the phone line around her finger while she listened. “Yes, this is.” Kylo’s stomach felt light as he watched her expression drop in fear. “She did?” There was a long pause. “I… ok. I… yes. Ok. I’ll be right there. Yes. Ok. Thank you.” 

 

Slowly Rey hung up the phone, an expression of horror lingering on her features. 

 

“Rey?” Kylo gently asked. 

 

“It’s my grandmother,” she whispered, her gaze fixed ahead of her. “She had a stroke and she’s in the hospital.”

 

He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and she didn’t flinch, didn’t move. “Is she alright? What hospital?”

 

“They… think she will be. Alright.” Her features twisted like she was holding back tears, but it was only for a flash until her expression smoothed out again. “She’s at Coruscant General. I’ll have to take the train, there’s no buses in the area and it will take hours if I ride my bike, I --”

 

She was staying calm, which Kylo was grateful for. He could work with this. 

 

He was on his phone already, pulled out of his pocket to text Hux. The fellow manager’s response was almost instant. 

 

“I’ll take you,” Kylo said. “Hux will come in early for his evening shift, he’ll be here in --” he checked his phone again, “-- twenty minutes. And I’ll need to stop by my place on the way. Is that… ok?”

 

Slowly, so slowly, she nodded. 

 

“Good. Don’t worry about your roll-ups, Ami can do them. Just get dressed and ready to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter and the cliffhanger!
> 
> GRAM IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT I PROMISE.


	7. Past and Present

“Hello, this is Rey Kenobi, calling regarding my grandmother?”

 

“Yes, Miss Kenobi, thank you for calling.” The nurse on the other line had a kind, reassuring voice that Rey appreciated. 

 

“Ahsoka at the nursing home told me that I could contact you for an update?”

 

“She’s doing remarkably well, Rey.” The nurse sounded as relieved as Rey felt. “She’s conscious and has been asking for you. Ahsoka took excellent care of her.”

 

Rey let out an exhale of relief, leaning back in her seat and resting her hand on her chest. “I’m on my way there.”

 

She hung up the phone, closing her eyes. She was grateful for Kylo’s silence as he focused on the road, for her thoughts were a flurry constantly battering the forefront of her restless mind. 

 

She was worried for her grandmother. The nurse’s words had reassured her, but still… today had been a reminder of how fallible her grandmother was, and it terrified her.

 

She was frustrated with Kylo, and she was angry with herself for accepting his offer, especially now that her phone conversation had lulled the worst of her panic. He had been such an  _ asshole  _ to her last week. She had been so preoccupied today that she had accepted his offer without thought, her anger dissipating in the wake of his gentle touch and kind smile. He hadn’t actually apologized -- which was typical -- but she supposed that him driving her half an hour across town counted as a bit of an apology.

 

As if reading her mind, he muttered in a low voice, “I’m sorry. For last week.”

 

Sighing, she closed her eyes.

 

“I know,” he continued, “that this is the wrong time. I just need you to know how sorry I am.”

 

She asked him, “Do you know why I’m upset?”

 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to close, I--”

 

“No,” she interrupted. “You didn’t  _ ask  _ me to close. You  _ told  _ me. If you had asked me, I would have said yes, and that would have been that.” They had reached a stoplight and he turned to face her, the only sound the faint rumble of his idling engine. “I’m a good employee,” she continued with conviction. “I help the restaurant when I can. But that doesn’t mean you can just tell me to do something like that. Ask me nicely and I say yes. Demand it of me and I’ll say no. Green.”

 

His gaze flickered forward and he hit the gas, the car lurching forward with a growl of the engine. 

 

“Do you respect me?” she asked.

 

Without hesitation, he responded, “Yes, I --”

 

“Then start treating me like you do. At work too.”

 

“Only if you stop interrupting me.” His words were seething, but his tone lacked any heat. 

 

“Fair,” she acquiesced. “And… thank you. For taking me to my grandmother.”

 

She hadn’t realized how tense his shoulders had been until they began to relax into his black leather car seats. Was everything he owned black leather? “You’re welcome.”

 

They had pulled into a subdivision filled with tiny and orderly townhouses. Kylo’s was as unremarkable as the rest, the lawn dusted with a fine layer of snow. It was a narrow two-story with the top half perched over a single-car garage. 

 

She expected it to be… more ostentatious. Maybe a dark mansion in a hidden corner of the town. What was she thinking, that he was a vampire?

 

Pulling in the driveway, he pressed the garage opener before turning off the car. She had barely paid attention when she had slid into the car but she did so now: it was a black BMW with dark tinted windows, about ten years old if she had to guess, clean and well cared for even in the winter weather. When they entered the garage, she spotted another car sleeping beneath a black car cover. It looked like a two-seater with a large wing.

 

“What’s this?” she asked him, pointing to the car. He was fumbling with his keys but looked up when she asked the question, a faint smile lifting one corner of his lips.

 

“My other car.”

 

She heard quiet barking from inside the house. Did he have a dog? She had never imagined him as a dog person.

 

“I figured that out. What is it?”

 

Now he was smiling in earnest, gazing at the car cover, looking a bit like a proud parent. “It’s a 1988 Porsche 911 Turbo, with a widebody kit and a ducktail.”

 

Her brows flew up -- she had a soft spot for old, air-cooled Porsches. She had to resist the urge to reach out and fling the cover off. “Can I see it? I’ve always loved these cars.”

 

Kylo chuckled warmly, and the sound made a smile pull at the corners of her lips. “Another day, maybe? I’ll take you out for a ride.”

 

She turned to him, grinning with wide-eyed wonder. “Would you, really?”

 

He unlocked the door, gesturing her inside. “Of course.”

 

“That would be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to ride in one, they’re just so classy but their lines are so aggressive, it makes them stick out while still being stunning.”

 

“My thoughts exactly.”

 

When they stepped into the house, they were immediately greeted by an enthusiastically barking long-haired red dachshund. Kylo bent down to pick the dog up to introduce Rey. “This is my old man, Chewie.” He let out a few more demanding barks until Rey gently pet his soft head. “Nice to meet you, Chewie.”

 

Kylo looked down at Chewie with so much fondness that it made Rey’s heart clench in her chest.

 

With Kylo carrying Chewie, they continued into his home. It was small but incredibly tidy, especially considering that she was an unexpected guest. The first room upon walking in was the kitchen, with black granite countertops and a black fridge and stove; the counters were empty except for a bowl of fruit, and there was only a single glass in the sink. It smelled distinctly of lemon cleaner. The bathroom branched off of the kitchen, with slate grey walls and stark-white shower and sink with a lone toothbrush perched on top. Past the kitchen and bathroom the tile floor became carpet; there was a tight set of carpeted stairs leading to what she assumed was the bedroom, and the narrow hallway beside opened up into the living room. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” Kylo said, taking Chewie out a set of sliding doors into the small, grassy backyard.

 

The living room was well-lit with two double-pane windows covered by tasteful white curtains that surrounded a beige suede couch with a dog bed at its foot. A few paintings dotted the cream walls, generic types of landscape portraits, and it smelled of fresh linens. She turned to sit on the couch, but before she dropped down she let out a gasp at the sight before her.

 

Records. Records upon records, lined neatly on a bookshelf, forming a square around a record player. She approached the shelf with an expression of sheer awe at the size of his collection. Unable to help herself she began to flip through -- he had Zeppelin, Floyd, The Who, Sabbath, Fleetwood Mac, Rush, Neil Young, Queen, David Bowie, so much Bowie… 

 

She heard the whoosh of the sliding door to her left, and Chewie heralded their re-entry with two loud barks. 

 

“Your records,” Rey whispered reverently as Kylo approached her. She slipped one of the records off the shelf. “Your collection is incredible, I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean… Deja Vu,” she held up the album in her hands. “How did you even get this? I’ve been on the waiting list for years at every place in town.” 

 

Kylo gently took it out of her hands and slid it back into place. “I got that off of Craigslist.” He began walking into the kitchen, and she followed. “A man’s father had passed, and he had no interest in them so he offloaded them to me. I got a quarter of my collection that day.” Rifling in one of the cupboards, Kylo pulled out a bin of dog food and fed Chewie. While Chewie eagerly lapped up the food, Kylo went down on his haunches to pet Chewie, whispering, “see you later buddy” before leading Rey back outside. 

 

Kylo had been… so gentle with Chewie. Rey had never seen him so gentle with anything before. 

 

“How long have you had Chewie for?” she asked while sliding back into his passenger seat. 

 

“Almost twelve years now,” he responded, starting the car. “The first thing I did when I moved into my own place was adopt a dog. Here,” he said, reaching into a compartment to pass her an iPod. “Pick something for us to listen to.”

 

She flicked through the iPod, marvelling at how similar it was to her own. With a smile she settled on American Woman by the Guess Who. 

 

He adopted dogs. He owned a cool car. He had an amazing record collection, and listened to many of the same artists that she did. 

 

Rey wondered if things would be different if she had met Kylo outside of work. They shared so many interests, and they even had similar fiery personalities. They seemed to get along well, when the time allowed it. But instead, work had made them clash since the first moment they had met.

 

She turned, watching his profile as he drove. Sharp eyes, distinctive nose, full lips, long hair.

 

For a moment, she indulged in wondering what a life would be like knowing him outside of work. She imagined going to the record store together, flipping through vinyls and smiling at each other when one of them found something they liked. She imagined going to a coffee shop afterwards, admiring their purchases together while they warmed up from the inside out. She imagined driving around in his Porsche together with the windows down, the engine rumbling behind them.

 

She imagined lying on his couch, listening to album after album, her head in his lap while he stroked her hair, Chewie sleeping at their feet. 

 

She imagined him pressing his lips into her hair, smelling like smoke and cinnamon. 

 

She imagined reaching up to kiss and taste him.

 

A flush crept up her cheeks and she flicked her gaze forward again, remaining quiet for the rest of the car ride.

 

\--

 

“Gram?”

 

Kylo leaned against the wall in the hallway outside of Rey’s grandmother’s room, not wanting to intrude on her private family moment. The door was open, though, so he couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

 

“Rey, dear, I’m so glad you’ve made it.” Her grandmother sounded tired but otherwise healthy, and Kylo smiled faintly.

 

“I’ve been so worried about you.”

 

“Who, me? I’m fine. Just means I’m going to be taking even more pills now.” She sighed gently. “I’m more worried about you, I know you had to work with that awful boss today --”

 

“ _ Gram _ ,” Rey hissed. “He’s right outside.”

 

Kylo covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. 

 

“Why’s he out there? Did he drive you here? Bring him in, I want to meet him.”

 

A moment later, Rey’s head popped out the door, her cheeks and the tips of her ears flaming red. “My grandmother wants to see you.”

 

He couldn’t help the smile sticking to his face as he entered the room behind a diminutive Rey. 

 

Even while in a hospital bed, Rey’s grandmother had an air of regality to her. With her chin high, she observed him from down her long nose.

 

“Gram,” Rey said, “this is Kylo Ren. Kylo, I’d like you to meet my grandmother, Satine Kenobi.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kenobi.”

 

Rey’s grandmother was wordless for a moment, watching Kylo with a piercing gaze until she suddenly burst out laughing.

 

“Why --” Rey began. 

 

Her gaze fixed on Kylo, Satine said, “So that’s what you call yourself now. Kylo Ren. I know who you are, Ben Solo.”

 

Ice slid down his spine and the blood drained out of his face. How did she know?

 

“No one has called me that for a very long time,” he whispered. Like she was watching a tennis match, Rey’s eyes darted between her grandmother and Kylo. 

 

“It’s a pity, seeing as you’re named after my late husband.”

 

Rey’s jaw fell nearly to the ground. She managed to say, “Explain.”

 

“Your grandfather,” Satine began, “taught Ben’s mother everything she knew about cooking. He was her mentor.”

 

“She told me his name was Ben Obiwan.” Kylo felt rocked by his past, the past that he had tried so hard to leave behind. 

 

“He went by a pseudonym,” Satine explained. “He was quite the sensation in the cooking world and wanted to leave his private life private.”

 

“How did you know who I am?”

 

She smiled slyly. “I met your mother once. She had the most remarkable, unforgettable eyes. The same eyes you have.” 

 

His gaze slipped to the ground as he was flooded with guilt. Guilt for what he had done to his father, for never calling his mother, for trying so fucking hard to leave behind his parents because he couldn’t face the fact that he had been an  _ asshole _ . For so long, he had tried to keep those memories buried, but he knew that couldn’t last forever. 

 

To the floor, he murmured, “Please excuse me. I have a call to make.” He didn’t. “Rey, I’ll be in the front lobby when you’re ready.”

 

He swept out of the room, away from the curious gazes of Rey and her grandmother, that reckless merger of past and present.

 

He needed to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's Porsche: https://cdn2.mecum.com/auctions/ca0815/ca0815-219979/images/ca0815-219979_1.jpg?1439592391000
> 
> His BMW: http://www.luxurycarrental-dubai.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/2007-BMW-335i-6-SPD-Sport-a4.jpg
> 
> Thank you to J for the help with cars and dogs!


	8. When the Levee Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was absurdly fun to write, and I'm very excited to hear what you all think. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love for this little fic! The comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions actually make my life. 
> 
> I may have another update up tomorrow, but if not, it'll be some time next week as I'm out of town for a few days.

The full-bodied wine was heavy in his mouth but smooth when he swallowed. He sighed and closed his eyes, savoring the taste of the merlot. 

 

It had been a fucking long day, and he deserved to open one of his reserve bottles. 

 

The past always seemed to find him, no matter how hard he tried to stow it away in the deepest recesses of his mind. Shame was a powerful thing, knocking you out when you least wanted or expected it. 

 

However, it seemed that, even with his eyes closed and the taste of a heady red wine on his lips and the sound of Tom Waits on his stereo, it wasn’t his shame that swallowed him whole. It was his thoughts of Rey. Her pure, unadulterated joy when she saw his record collection. Her shock when she heard his name -- his  _ real  _ name. Her concern when she found him in the front foyer, those gentle words “are you okay?” tumbling out of her lips. 

 

She had still been there for him, even when he had run away like a coward. She still called him Kylo, a name that sounded so sweet on her lips. 

 

He couldn’t get her out of his head, and he knew exactly why.

 

He had feelings for her.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Truly, he had known for a while. But he had accepted it now, knowing the way that his heart raced when she smiled, the way his legs went weak when she laughed. 

 

Of all the people in the world, he had to have feelings for his employee, one of a small group of people that were out of his reach. 

 

Sighing, he covered his eyes with his hand. Waits’ gravelly croon was too apt for him tonight.

 

_ And I hope that I don’t fall in love with you. _

 

He stood and, with a hearty glug of wine, lifted the arm off of the record while Chewie watched him quizzically from the floor. 

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he told Chewie. 

 

Kylo began to pace.

 

Rey was… wonderful, yes, but she was  _ his employee _ . First Order had extremely strict policies about manager to employee relationships. 

 

He began to weigh his options.

 

He could quit. And do what? His job was his life, and he had worked hard to get into his position. Even more, he was knocking on the door of a head office position if he was just patient. It would be folly to throw his job away for a chance with a woman. 

 

He could fire her. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty. On the car ride back, she had told him about how her grandmother was in a nursing home and Rey was paying what Satine’s pension didn’t cover. If Kylo fired her, both Rey and Satine would be out of their homes. So no, not an option. 

 

They could attempt secrecy, if she would even have him, although he felt that he was entirely undeserving of her. She was sweet, kind, caring, and  _ happy _ . He was… none of those things. Old. Grumpy. Temperamental. A little conceited. But it was a big risk. If by a wild chance she did want him, and they agreed to it, if anyone found out they would both lose their jobs. 

 

Or… he could try and move on. He could avoid scheduling them together. He could stay in his office when she was on shift with him. He was the general manager, no one would question it. 

 

Except for perhaps Rey, who was too damn perceptive. But if she was angry about it, getting space from her would be a good thing.

 

Wouldn’t it?

 

\--

 

“Sorry I’m late!” Phasma shouted as she came in the door, tossing her bag on the floor and sitting across from Hux and Kylo. “The line at the gas station was a bloody mile long.”

 

“If you didn’t drive that gas-guzzling tree-killing G-wagon you wouldn’t have to spend so much time at the pump,” Hux snarled.

 

“Let me guess, your Golf is  _ so _ much better on gas?”

 

“It is!” Hux retorted. “It’s fuel economic, practical, and has German luxury for Japanese prices!”

 

“I need a big car, it’s --”

 

“Enough,” Kylo snapped. “Let’s get this meeting over with.”

 

Truth be told, Kylo was slightly hungover from the night before, polishing off the bottle of reserve merlot himself, and Hux and Phasma’s incessant arguing before their early morning meeting had even started was increasing his headache. 

 

The meeting was long and arduous, and Kylo was grateful when it was over so he could pour himself another hot tea and find some painkillers. 

 

But the moment he stepped out of his office, Rey was there, hands behind her back and a faint smile on her face. “May I have a word?” she asked. 

 

He shrugged and waved her into the office, closing the door behind her. He didn’t bother sitting, keeping his back to the door while he surveyed her. 

 

She looked so beautiful, smiling at him like that. Like he mattered. Like she cared about him.

 

“I just wanted to see how you are today. Yesterday got a little tense.”

 

“I’m fine,” he snapped. A frown danced across her face, and with a sigh his frustration dissipated and he repeated, “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”  _ Other than being hungover. Oh, and did I mention I got drunk last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you _ . “How is your grandmother?”

 

“She’s well,” Rey responded with a nod. “I spoke to her on the phone this morning, she’s itching to get out of bed already.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Well I should…” Rey paused, rubbing the back of her neck. She looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. “Off to work, then. Have a good shift.”

 

She left the office, but even when Kylo closed the door her scent lingered, coconut and something floral. 

 

He banged the back of his head against the door in frustration. 

 

Why, of all fucking people, did it have to be  _ her _ ?

 

\--

 

He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

His attempts to avoid her at work were in vain, they both simply worked too many hours. 

 

If he were being quite honest, he didn’t  _ want  _ to avoid her. Those moments of interaction with her made the work day more bearable. 

 

And today… it had simply been too much for him.

 

He had gone into the kitchen to grab a drink from the pop machine, and Rey was bent over into the icebox, her perky ass high in the air. 

 

The sight had made him so hard that he had to abandon his drink mission, turning straight around to lock himself in the employee bathroom so he could wank.

 

When he got home that evening, he opened another reserve bottle of wine.

 

Fuck, he needed it.

 

He wondered if going out and meeting someone would help. A good lay would take his mind off of things; it had been almost a year after all.

 

Where did people meet these days? Tinder? Bars? Were bars still a good place to meet people?

 

He vaguely remembered Phasma telling him about a Zeppelin cover band playing at one of the local bars that night; she had told him that she wanted to go but was stuck working. 

 

What was the place called again? Outpost… something… Niima Outpost, maybe? He punched the name into his phone and found a bar five miles away. He checked their website, and there was a Zeppelin cover band on the docket. 

 

He made a quick decision to call a taxi.

 

\--

 

Rey had been stood up.

 

She was not happy about that fact as she stood out in the cold, arms wrapped tight to bring her jacket as close as possible. She wondered if she would have square-shaped frostbite where her jeans were torn, exposing her knees to the frigid air.

 

Rey had known Devi since they went to highschool together in Jakku, and Devi was the last piece of high school that Rey held on to. In moments like this, though, Rey had to wonder why -- even when Devi was the one to suggest the plans, she had a tendency to flake. 

 

Like she had done tonight.

 

Rey gave up. With a sigh, she went inside the dingy bar, dropping her jacket off at coat check. The roadies were finishing the last of the sound check, and Rey was small enough that she was able to skirt into the crowd to find a place close to the front. Since it was a cover band, the attendees were more respectful and she wasn’t cramped like a sardine. 

 

The band launched into their opening song -- a rendition of Rock and Roll -- and Rey settled in, beginning to dance. 

 

\--

 

By the time he made it to the bar, bought his ticket, checked his coat, and grabbed a beer, the band had already started. He surveyed the crowd: it was mixed but consisted of more men over 50 than he had considered. He realized that he really should have thought this out, and he ordered a shot of whiskey to bolster himself before he dove into the crowd. 

 

The crowd was polite, most preferring to tap their feet and nod their heads as they listened aptly. He weaved between patrons, pausing when he was around halfway to the front. 

 

The band was good. Great, but not good. The bass tone was off and the guitar was too loud, which was typical of live bands. 

 

He began to scan the crowd again. Finally, a brunette with wavy, shoulder-length hair caught his eye and he approached her. He sidled up beside her and, as the last notes of the song trailed off, leaned down to ask her, “Can I buy you a drink?”

 

As she turned to face him, he realized just what he had done. 

 

“Kylo! What are you doing here?”

 

For the love of all that was holy, it was  _ Rey _ . 

 

She looked absolutely stunning. She was wearing a loose-fitting black tank top and well-worn jeans with holes in the knees, rolled to just above her ankles with her familiar black and white Chucks. He had never seen her hair down before, and the gentle waves framed her face perfectly. She was also wearing makeup, another first; silver sparkly eyeshadow and a few layers of mascara, just enough to draw attention to her beautiful brown eyes. 

 

Worst of all, she lit up when she saw him, looking positively overjoyed. 

 

_ Damn her. _

 

“Rey.” Her name formed on his lips sounded like a prayer. 

 

“You said you’re going to buy me a drink?” she asked. “I’d love a beer! Surprise me.”

 

The band started the next song -- Black Dog -- and he turned to go back to the bar. 

 

He could leave right then. She would be disappointed and likely wouldn’t talk to him at work, but that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? The thought left him feeling hollow.

 

Or he could stay. He could enjoy the band with her, wish her good night, and part ways. Nothing more. 

 

His mind was made up by the time he reached the bar and held up two fingers. 

 

\--

 

Rey was a good dancer. 

 

She kept her moves simple, mostly swaying her hips, and it was mesmerizing to watch her. She knew all the words to every song that they played, her singing growing louder as Kylo kept buying them rounds.  

 

Kylo had been pushed behind her by the crowd, but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. From there he could smell her perfume, something soft and floral; he knew she never wore it at work. He could smell her shampoo, too, a more familiar coconut scent.

 

The band began to play What Is and What Should Never Be; it was evidently a favourite of Rey’s as she jumped up and down with excitement. The movement pushed her flush against him; he tried to step back but only succeeded in stepping on a man’s foot, who gave him a gruff “hey!”. 

 

So… here he was. Pressed up against Rey, who began to sway to the music again, not perturbed at all by their situation. 

 

This was  _ not  _ how he planned for his evening to go when he left the house. 

 

Her ass was pressed against his thighs, swaying softly from side-to-side.

 

_ Don’t get a hard-on… don’t get a hard-on…  _

 

Not wanting to be a statue he began to move with her, relishing the feel of her warmth against him. 

 

He wondered what her skin would feel like beneath his hands.

 

Soft and warm, he knew. 

 

She tripped and he caught her, holding onto her hips. She laughed airily and corrected herself, turning back to smile at him, mouthing “thank you” before she pressed against him again.

 

_ Good fucking lord… _

 

When she turned forward again, his hands just… stayed at her hips. They felt so good beneath his hands he simply couldn’t resist. He could feel the sharp jut of her bones contrasting against the swell of her hips. 

 

What would it be like to bend her forward, to take her from behind?

 

To watch the movement of her bare back as she pushed against him? 

 

Oh, Lord, he was getting hard. He hoped she couldn’t feel it.

 

The song changed, to the slow, bluesy swing of Since I’ve Been Loving You. 

 

Rey’s movement changed to fit the song, and his hands involuntarily tightened on her hips as he moved with her, closing his eyes.

 

They were magnets, Kylo and Rey, inadvertently drawn to each other. Resisting was fruitless. 

 

Why was he so concerned about his job? 

 

Why did he care about what Snoke thought?

 

This --  _ her  _ \-- was what he wanted. No, what he  _ needed _ .

 

Her kindness. Her caring. Her warmth. Her laughter. Her smile. Her hips in his hands, the brush of her hair against his chin.

 

The song reached its bridge and she arched her back, driving her shoulders and ass into him, tiling her head back so he could see her closed eyes, mouth open as she sang. 

 

And he crumbled. 

 

With the hands planted on her hips, he spun her to face him. 

 

Her eyes were wide and warm; she was challenging him with her dark gaze as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

 

God.

 

Fuck.

 

_ Rey. _

 

His hands were working of their own accord.

 

One slid up her back, finding its place among her mass of hair. It felt like silk on her fingertips.

 

The other travelled up, just far enough up to find her lower back, pulling her entirely flush against him. 

 

He no longer heard the music, he no longer saw the crowd.

 

All he saw was  _ Rey _ . Her eyes grew darker as her pupils blew wide; her chest rose and fell rapidly as she searched for breath.

 

She wanted  _ him _ .

 

“Rey.” His voice was low and husky in a way that surprised even him. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Without hesitation, she nodded.

 

He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this gift of her, but it wasn’t one he would throw away. No. He would treasure her, worship her, give back to her everything she had given him already and so much more. 

 

Kylo bent down, pressing his lips firmly to Rey’s waiting mouth. 

 

_ God. _

 

_ Yes. _

 

Her lips were soft, so soft, but she wasn’t gentle. No. She was pressing back fiercely, hungry for him, consuming him, their lips moving in a dance. His hands pulled her close, closer, it was never close enough, and in turn her hands found his shoulders, pulling him down to her. His knees ached, but he didn’t care. Distantly he heard the crowd cheering, but he didn’t care about that, either. He only cared about Rey. She tasted of the sharp tang of beer and he could smell her coconut shampoo. Her hips drove into him and he was so fucking  _ hard  _ that he saw stars behind his closed lids. Her tongue pressed to his lips, asking, and he responded with a yes, parting his lips to allow her in, but she only wanted a taste. She pulled back and his mouth felt empty, emptier than it had ever been, but she came in again to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. 

 

His head was spinning.

 

He forgot his own name.

 

“Kylo…”

 

Her voice was heavy, and she let out a breathy laugh. When he looked at her, he saw her kiss-swollen lips, her blown pupils, her hair mussed by his hands. 

 

In his whole life, he had never seen anyone look so beautiful. 

 

_ He  _ had done this.

 

The thought made his cock throb. 

 

But Rey… she deserved so much more than one night together. 

 

With her, he wanted to be patient.

 

He wanted to take his time.

 

The band had stopped playing, he realized, and the crowd had started to disburse. 

 

“Can I cook you dinner tomorrow?” he asked. 

 

The smile she gave him was radiant. “Of course. What time should I come over?”

 

“8?”

 

“I can’t wait.”

 

Neither could he. 


	9. Homemade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted this to be longer, but it's been almost a week since my last update, so here we are!

Kylo jolted awake at 6am, hours before his alarm.

 

At first, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so damn happy for six in the morning, especially considering that he had been out late the previous night. Then his memories came flooding back to him in a rush.

 

_ Rey. _

 

He remembered the feel of her lips on his and how sweet she tasted. For a moment he closed his eyes, remembering every detail of the night from dancing to their kiss to the cab ride they shared home, filled with laughter and gentle, slow kisses. 

 

She was coming over for dinner that night, and he had work to do.

 

He rose out of bed, carried Chewie downstairs to let him into the backyard, and put the kettle on. After a quick breakfast of an omelette and tea, he wrapped himself up in his winter garb to take Chewie out. It was a frigid mid-December day with a few flakes of snow making their way out of the sky, the air so cold his exposed skin burned. He and Chewie only made it around the block before they darted back inside, Chewie shaking so hard that snow flew off of him in every direction. 

 

Next, he cleaned. Kylo took pride in the cleanliness and tidiness of his home, but he still did a load of laundry, took out the garbages, did the few dishes from breakfast, and went over every surface with cleaner. 

 

Once he was satisfied, he showered, put Chewie to bed and headed out. His first stop was his barber for a hot towel shave, a rare indulgence. His second was the local patissiere to pick up dessert and a croissant with ham and cheese for himself for lunch. He went to the market after to pick out fresh ingredients for lunch.

 

By the time he returned home it was almost 2pm, so he put on a Dylan album, started on a bottle of wine, and began to prep.

 

\--

 

It was a Friday and Rey worked the open shift. Although the lunch rush was steady and Rey remained busy without being overwhelmed, the day seemed to pass at a glacial pace. 

 

All she could think about was her upcoming dinner with Kylo.

 

The kiss they had shared before had been the best in her life. Mind you, she was a person who hadn’t kissed many people, her romantic life often taking a backseat to more pressing issues, but… 

 

Wow.

 

She had never known a kiss could make you feel like that kiss had. Like she was floating off the floor, like her whole body was on fire, like she was intoxicated by his taste but completely sober at the same time, like nothing in the world mattered but  _ him _ .

 

_ Kylo. _

 

She was smitten, absolutely smitten, and she couldn’t help but wear it in the bright smiles she passed to her customers. She was grateful that Poe and Finn weren’t working, for she wore her joy all over her face and they would’ve been questioning her the moment they saw her. 

 

Truth be told, she didn’t know  _ who  _ to tell. She couldn’t tell Finn, Poe, Snap, or Jess. Or maybe she could, depending on what Kylo said. She trusted the four of them, they wouldn’t tell Hux or Phasma. 

 

To her, it really didn’t matter. She could tell everyone or she could tell no one. The secrecy was a small price to pay to see the broad smile that painted Kylo’s face after every time they kissed. 

 

As soon as Hux cut her, she rushed through her duties so she could get home as quickly as possible, opting to take the bus over walking to avoid the harsh cold. When she stepped into the warmth of her apartment, a text from Kylo awaited.

 

_ I’m having an Uber pick you up at 7:45. It’s too cold for you to walk. _

_ xx Kylo _

 

She collapsed backwards onto her bed, smiling up at her phone.

 

It was going to be a good night.

 

\--

 

It had taken Rey an embarrassingly long time to choose and outfit that was suitable for a date -- after all, this was a date, right? -- without being over-the-top or unsuited for the cold day. She finally settled on a silk red sleeveless blouse tucked into a pair of well-fitted high-waisted jeans. She would have opted for heels if she had owned any, but she chose high black patent leather boots instead. Styling her hair had never been her strong point and it seemed particularly uncooperative today, so she tied it half back, leaving some to brush against her shoulders in unruly waves. She kept her makeup simple, just a little mascara and a rose-coloured lipstick. 

 

When 7:40 rolled around, she tossed on a long overcoat and a black knit scarf and went outside to jump in the waiting Uber.

 

Although her and Kylo lived less than fifteen minutes apart, the ride felt too long, the generic pop on the radio doing nothing to soothe her. 

 

She was so anxious to see him. 

 

Throwing a quick “thank you!” to the driver she leapt out of the car on arrival, trying not to sprint to the front door. 

 

She knocked, and he was there. 

 

He looked… positively dashing. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, exposing his broad and vascular forearms. The formality of the button-down was contrasted with a pair of fitted jeans, and the whole ensemble was overlaid with a black apron dusted with flour. Most shocking was his hair: normally well-styled, he had pulled it into a tight knot at the back of his head. It showed off his prominent ears, and she had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. And he was grinning, a smile more broad than she had ever seen before. Gone was the tightass manager whom she had butted heads with, replaced with a more youthful and joyful man that she wished she could see all the time. 

 

“Hi,” she whispered, at a loss for words.

 

“You made it,” he muttered, sounding slightly shocked that she had shown up. “Come in.”

 

She followed him inside, and she was greeted by warm, intoxicating smells coming from the kitchen, something with tomato and basil if she had to guess. Unfamiliar classical music was playing, and she heard the gentle tap of Chewie’s steps as he approached to greet her. A few candles were set up around the house, giving it a welcoming warmth, and when they entered the kitchen Kylo had set up a decanter of wine with two glasses. 

 

“How was your day?” he asked as he poured the wine from the decanter into the glasses. 

 

“Not bad,” she replied. “Had a party of ten at lunch so that kept me busy. How was yours?” She took a seat at one of the bar stools, facing the kitchen counter perpendicularly while he worked preparing the wine. 

 

“Busy,” he responded with a smile. She had seen him smile more in the past five minutes than in their months of acquaintance.

 

Was it entirely because of her?

 

He passed her a filled glass, and she frowned faintly. “I have to admit I don’t know much about wine. I usually drink the stuff out of a box.”

 

He crinkled his nose. “That’s nothing but expired grape juice. This is a vintage Bordeaux. Try it.”

 

Trying to hold in laughter at his expectant expression, she took the wine in her mouth. 

 

It tasted the exact same as the boxed wine. 

 

“It’s… delicious.” 

 

“You’re lying.” His tone was more incredulous than upset. 

 

“Okay, fine. It tastes exactly like the boxed wine.”

 

“You’re impossible. You have no taste buds,” he muttered with a tsk. “Alright then. Close your eyes.” 

 

She did as he asked, listening as he rustled around in the kitchen. After a moment, her heart pounded in her chest when she felt his warmth in front of her and his hand cupping her chin. He murmured, “Tell me how this tastes.” 

 

She felt a little like a sheep facing down a wolf, but more willing in her vulnerability, as she opened her mouth for him. He slipped a wooden spoon in and she closed her lips around it; a flavourful tomato sauce exploded on her palette. She could taste tart tomatoes, smoky garlic, fresh basil -- it went together so well that she groaned. 

 

“Better than Ragu?” he asked. 

 

She laughed faintly and opened her eyes; he had returned in front of the stove top and was stirring something. He looked so… delightfully domestic. “Much,” she responded. 

 

He pulled out two square white plates and began to plate the sauce with some sort of pasta. Tortellini, perhaps? “It’s my grandfather’s recipe,” he told her. “He was a great chef. Try this.” He passed her a well-plated meal, the sauce that she had tried drizzled over a ravioli, garnished with a sprig of parsley. 

 

Taking a bite, she had to close her eyes and groan, the whole combination was so delicious. “This is incredible,” she muttered through a mouthful of food. 

 

“It’s all homemade,” he explained, taking a seat beside her with his own plate. “Down to the sauce and noodles.” 

 

“I don’t think I’ve eaten anything this delicious in my life.”

 

“Come on, it’s not that good,” he chided, but she spotted the tips of his ears turning pink. 

 

“I’m serious.” She took another bite, savouring it before swallowing. “My grandmother is a good cook but not a great cook and we never ate out. It was too expensive.”

 

Kylo nodded thoughtfully while he chewed through a bite of his own food.

 

“Thank you for this,” Rey said gently, resting a hand on his leg. “You’re really talented, you know.”

 

The pink on his ears moved down to his cheeks. In spite of his embarrassment, when his eyes found hers she saw fire. 

 

“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered.

 

“You don’t need to ask,” she responded, and before she had finished her sentence his lips were on her open mouth, tasting, searching. He was more gentle than before, more patient, and she thought of the expanse of the evening they had before them.

 

There was only her, and him.

 

A couch.

 

A bed.

 

His hands roamed up her back, pulling her closer; she stood so that he could pull her between his legs, the bar stool high enough that he was still looming over her. He tasted of wine and tomatoes and smelled of fresh spices, warm and welcoming. She was flush against him, feeling the heat of him through his shirt, running her hands along his sides. 

 

Kylo pulled back, resting his forehead against hers while he met her eyes. “I want this to be something,” he breathed.

 

She rested her hand on his cheek, feeling his smooth skin beneath her palm. “I do, too.”

 

“You know we can’t tell anyone we don’t trust with our lives. We’d both lose our jobs.”

 

“I know,” she replied faintly. 

 

“But… I still want to try. This. Whatever this is.”

 

“I do too.”

 

They still had so much to talk about, she still had so many questions, but his lips were on hers again, hungrier this time. 

 

The questions could wait.

 

His hands were on her back, fingertips clawing into her skin. She breathed him in,  _ Kylo _ , and nipped at his lower lip. His hand ran across the front of her shirt, cupping her breast; she gasped into his mouth and he growled in return, and --

 

His phone rang.

 

She knew it was his phone by the ringtone. He stopped, statue-still, hand still resting on her breast. 

 

“I --”

 

“You should take it,” she insisted, letting him slip out of her fingers. He sighed and took the call, leaving one hand wrapped around her back to keep her close. 

 

So close she could hear Hux’s voice on the other line.

 

“Yes?” Kylo growled in his way of answering. 

 

“Snoke’s here. He needs to talk to you. Now.”

 

“You talk to him,” Kylo snapped. He sounded like the hard-ass manager again, and Rey sighed softly. 

 

“He said  _ you _ , Kylo. You specifically. He’s in a mood today.”

 

Knuckles white from gripping the phone, Kylo let out an audible growl. “This is  _ fucking inconvenient _ you know.”

 

“Be here in fifteen.”

 

“Half an hour,” he spat, hanging up the phone with vitriol. 

 

Kylo was breathing heavily through clenched teeth. “I understand,” Rey said, her tone soothing. “We can resume another time. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

For a few breaths, Kylo didn’t answer, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Finally he sighed, seeming to let out some of the pent-up frustration. “Alright. Yes. We will.”

 

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, and he muttered, “I’ll give you a ride home.” 


	10. Here We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earning the E rating this chapter, because I'm a heathen.

Rey, Finn, and Poe were snuggled close on her small bed, wrapped tightly in warm blankets with spiked hot chocolates in their hands. A Studio Ghibli movie played on the laptop at their feet, something they’ve all watched so many times they could recite it verbatim.

 

Snow was falling in droves outside Rey’s window, and that night at work had been so awful none of them had wanted to be alone, even though it was 2am. 

 

Lulled by the warmth of her drink and her friends, Rey’s eyes were growing heavy. She jolted awake when Finn let out a loud snore. 

 

“Alright you two,” she murmured, pausing the movie and jostling them both awake. “Time to go home and sleep in your own bed.”

 

“Rngh,” Finn replied.

 

“I know, I’m awful. But BB is going to pee in your shoes again if you don’t get home soon.” 

 

“Come on, babe,” Poe muttered softly, grabbing a resistant Finn’s hands to lift him out of the bed. “You working tomorrow, Reyrey?”

 

“I’m closing.”

 

“Me too.” Poe bent down to brush a kiss against her cheek. He smelled like aftershave and hot chocolate. “See you then.”

 

“Night guys.”

 

“Night babe.”

 

The door whisked shut softly behind them. Rey pulled her phone out of her pajamas pocket, checking one last time for news from Kylo. She hadn’t heard from him since he had dropped her off the night before to head to his meeting. His business wasn’t hers, but she couldn’t help her curiosity.

 

She jumped and nearly spilled her drink when the phone in her hand rang, and Kylo’s name was on the display. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she answered the call.

 

\--

 

It was a relief to hear the familiarity of Rey’s voice on the other end of the line, and Kylo sunk down onto the hotel bed. His eyes were itchy and bloodshot and his feet ached. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

 

“I’m a waitress, remember? I don’t sleep until 3am at earliest.”

 

He laughed gently. “Of course. Listen, I’m sorry for not calling you earlier --”

 

“It’s ok.” Her tone was soothing.

 

“It’s just Snoke, he…” Kylo sighed. “I went in last night, and he told me that he had fired the GM at Bespin Bistro in Cloud City and he needed me to take over for a couple weeks while he finds a replacement. I had to leave right away to make it for the 7am manager’s meeting.”

 

Rey sounded worried when she asked, “Isn’t Cloud City five hours away? Have you slept?”

 

“For about an hour when I checked into my hotel,” he replied with a bark of a laugh. “And I ended up having to work the place from open until close. It’s a complete disaster.” He collapsed backwards onto the bed, closing his eyes. “I just got back to my hotel room, and I have to be back in the morning for a staff meeting.”

 

“You should get some sleep.”

 

“In a bit. How was your day?”

 

“Almost equally disastrous. Two cooks called in sick tonight, apparently they got food poisoning when they went out to grab lunch. We got completely slammed and all the food came out late. I think I saw Hux cry he had to comp so many meals.”

 

That startled a full laugh out of Kylo. “Now I wish I had been there to see that.”

 

Rey laughed with him, and he was filled with a longing to see her. Leaving so abruptly with things unfinished between them the night before had been hard, and now they would be apart for weeks. He was shocked at how attached to her he was already feeling. 

 

“What are you doing now?” he asked softly.

 

“Drinking Bailey’s and hot chocolate to forget tonight. Finn and Poe were over to watch a movie but they just left. You’re in your hotel now?”

 

“Yes.” They were both alone -- the thought made his heart hammer in his chest. He had been on a razor’s edge since their last kiss, since he had felt the swell of her breast beneath his palm. In a hurried whisper, he asked, “What are you wearing?”

 

She let out a sharp bark of laughter on the other line. “Are we really doing this?”

 

His tone was dark, low. “You tell me.”

 

“Hmm…” she paused, considering. 

 

He would always give her a choice.

 

Always give her a chance to say no.

 

Even when he hoped to God that she would say yes.

 

“Yes,” she said. “I think we are.” She laughed again, warm and rich like butterscotch. “I’m in my pajamas. White tank top --”

 

“Spaghetti straps?”

 

“Oh yes.”

 

“Bra?”

 

“No. Of course not. And flannel pants. Not particularly sexy.”

 

“Panties?”

 

“Tell me what you’re wearing first.”

 

He sat up, running the hand that wasn’t holding his phone down his lapel to the buttons of his shirt. “Grey button-down. Slacks. Black socks. Belt.”

 

“Take your shirt off.” Her tone was demanding, and the sound made his cock spring to attention. His fingers were steady as he flicked the buttons out of their holes, awkwardly sliding the shirt off his shoulders while balancing the phone.

 

“Done. Now tell me about your panties.”

 

He heard her rustle on the other line, like she had forgotten what she was wearing and had to double check. “Black. Lace around the edges. Low cut.” She paused. “Boxers or briefs? Also, take your slacks off.”

 

“You can’t see me. How can you trust I’m undressing?”

 

“I just know.” Her voice was low and filled with sin, and the sound was so tempting he almost jumped in his car to drive to her. But that could wait. When they finally did have sex… he wanted it to be a slow, patient affair. He wanted to take his time with her, not rush through it like teenagers. 

 

She was right, though. He was listening to her, unbuckling his belt and shimmying his pants down his legs. “I’m feeling underdressed for the occasion. I want your pants off.”

 

She snickered and he heard her shuffle on the other line. “I’m still tucked under my bedsheets, it’s too fucking cold in here.”

 

“Also, boxer briefs. Black today.”

 

Rey hummed in approval. “I like that. But they’ve still got to go.”

 

“I have to agree.” He was so hard now that he was straining against his shorts, and his cock sprang to attention when he slipped them down his legs. “Rey…”

 

“Touch yourself.” She sounded breathy, husky. He imagined her lying in her bed, wearing nothing but a tank top so sheer he could see her pert nipples, and a pair of lacy black panties. 

 

“Someone’s bossy.” 

 

“Please,” she snapped. He fulfilled her request, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, groaning when he flicked his hand upwards. A sharp intake of breath from her responded to the sound. 

 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he requested.

 

“I’m…” she paused. “Sliding my panties down my legs. Spreading my legs and -- sorry, I’m new at this.”

 

“Keep going.”

 

“I’m touching myself.” Her tone was darker, and Kylo began to slowly pump his hand, thinking of her lying with her hair splayed on her pillow, her cheeks flushed, her hand between her legs. 

 

“Are you wet?”

 

“Yes. It’s… your voice… I like your voice. Are you touching yourself?”

 

“Yes.” He ran his thumb over his slit, and it came back wet with precum. Evidently he liked her voice, too. 

 

“Tell me what you would do if I was there.”

 

A moan slipped out as he imagined her, here, with him, now. “I’d lay you on your back. I’d kiss down your body, tasting everything. Your belly, your legs, your cunt.” She gasped, and he imagined her slipping a finger inside. “I’d run my tongue over your clit until you almost came, and then I’d stop. I’d slip a finger inside --” she moaned, and he began to quicken his pace, his nerves alight. “And then lick your clit until you came.”

 

“Would you fuck me?” A dark whisper, so quiet he could barely hear, so low she barely sounded like herself. He wondered how flushed her cheeks were. He wondered how wet and slick she was. 

 

“Oh, yes. But only after you came already. Only when you were ready --”

 

“I am.”

 

He groaned. “I’d go on top of you, kissing you as I slid inside.”

 

“Kylo --”

 

“You’d be so wet for me.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you want my cock?”

 

“Fuck yes.” She was panting.

 

His hand had a mind of its own; it was going faster, faster, he was getting close, he --

 

“You’d feel so fucking good. You’d -- I’d -- I’d fuck you slowly at first, filling you with my cock.” She moaned, loudly, and he paused to squeeze the base of his cock. “And when you moaned like that I’d go faster, I’d --”

 

“Kylo I’m gonna cum.” Her words were rushed and hot, and when she moaned again,  _ moaned his name _ , he began to work his cock in earnest. “Rey…” he was close, so close, his toes were tingling and his fingertips were numb and every nerve was on fire and  _ oh fuck _ she was whispering, nonsense words,  _ Jesus  _ and  _ fuck  _ and finally _ Kylo _ and  _ yes _ , over and over, until she cried out. The sound was so much, too much, and he reached the edge and cascaded over it, all of the nerves in his body centered around his cock as he shot cum over his belly, letting out a long groan.

 

Silence.

 

Not awkward, just… satiated. Tired. Happy.

 

Laughter spilled out of him, and she laughed, too. 

 

“How long are you gone again?” she asked blearily. 

 

“Too long,” he said with a sigh. 

 

She yawned audibly. “I’m falling asleep.”

 

His eyes felt even heavier than before, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep right then, even while covered with his own cum. “Me too.” 

 

“Let’s talk tomorrow? If you can?”

 

“We will. Good night, Rey.”

 

“Good night, Kylo.”


	11. The Fire and the Flood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.  
> I'M SORRY.  
> Y'ALL ARE PATIENT ANGELS.

It was Christmas Eve.

 

With her earbuds in Rey walked to work, the snow around her falling in earnest, covering the ground in a thick sheet. She wore a thick wool hat that covered her ears and pulled her scarf up over her mouth and nose in a vain attempt to keep the wind at bay. 

 

They would definitely have a white Christmas that year. 

 

Finally she arrived at work; she was immediately greeted by warmth, the smell of fresh food cooking, and clamouring pots. If she closed her eyes, it could have been a family Christmas dinner, and she could have been surrounded by loved ones instead of co-workers. 

 

Opening her eyes, she shook the snow off of herself and began to remove her layers. 

 

Today’s shift would be a short one; they closed early at 9pm for the holiday and she was the closing server. Christmas Eve was often quiet, and she would likely be home by 9:30pm. She was looking forward to an evening snuggled up in her most warm blanket, watching Die Hard. 

 

She poked her head into the manager’s office to bid good evening to the MOD, and he was there.

 

_ Kylo. _

 

He was  _ back _ .

 

In his absence, they had spoken on the phone when they could, but his voice was no substitute for  _ him _ . His broad shoulders, his sharp eyes, his crooked and rare smile. Were they anywhere else she would have rushed over to press a kiss on his lips, but as it was, Hux was seated beside him wearing his usual frown.

 

Keeping her demeanor casual, Rey said to the pair, “Evening Hux, Kylo.”

 

“Evening,” Kylo grumbled, his gaze fixed on the paperwork they were pouring over together. Either he was a master at acting or he was far from pleased to see her. Her mouth shut with a slap, and feeling slightly off-put she turned to leave so she could change before her shift started.

 

“Rey,” Kylo called to her as she did. She turned again to meet an expression that would have been stony were it not betrayed by a twinkle in his dark eyes. “I need you to stay late after your close to take decorations down.”

 

A smile threatened to take over her face, and she had to stamp it down to put on her own acting shoes. “Are you serious? It’s Christmas Eve.” 

 

“Yes, and tomorrow is Christmas, which means you have the full day off to do what you will with it. Today you’re at work and will do your job.”

 

“Fine.” When she was certain that Hux was entirely focused on his paperwork, she shot Kylo a wink before turning on her heel to stomp out of the office. She contemplated muttering ‘jerk’ on her way out, but she decided against it, not wanting to turn their fake-disagreement into a fake-argument. 

 

Christmas Eve was looking up.

 

\--

 

The few customers that Rey had that evening had long ago cleared out, the kitchen staff were gone, and Hux had gone home hours ago. All that was left were the part-time bartender, Rose, who was putting up her bar chairs, and Rey, who was taking the wreath off the front door.

 

His patience waning, Kylo’s foot was bouncing beneath his desk. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion by offering to help Rose, something he would never do, but she couldn’t leave soon enough.

 

In an attempt to ease his nerves he checked his phone for the fiftieth time, but he still had no messages. 

 

Who ever bothered to text him, anyways? He had no friends. His mother only attempted a cordial call on holidays. 

 

_ Rey did _ .

 

“Here’s my cash out, Kylo.”

 

He nearly jumped: Rose was at the door. He counted it as swiftly as possible, wishing her a gruff “Merry Christmas” before sending her home.

 

The restaurant was silent; tired of Christmas music, he had turned it off the moment 9pm rolled around. He flicked most of the lights off, plunging the restaurant into near darkness.

 

There was nothing left but him, Rey, and an empty restaurant.

 

He scrubbed his face with his hands, sighing to collect himself before he exited the office. 

 

It only took him a moment to find Rey, the only light in the darkness; she was taking down a string of Christmas lights, their soft glow framing her features. Her warm eyes, her gentle nose, her strong jaw, and the slant of her mouth, turned up into a smile at the sight of him.

 

“Hi,” she said gently. 

 

“Hi, you.”

 

“It’s good to see you.” She was across the restaurant, still clasping the Christmas lights in a bundle in her hands. 

 

“You too.” Their voices were low, like someone could interrupt them at any moment. But the doors were all locked, he had checked twice. The streetlights outside the closed window shades illuminated the softly falling snow, but in spite of the early hour for the restaurant the streets were silent. Most were with their families or friends, cuddling on couches and drinking mulled wine, observing the holiday in their own peace.

 

Not Kylo and Rey.

 

Neither had much in the way of family. Both put too much of their hearts into a job that didn’t particularly matter. And in that moment, the only people they wanted to be with were each other.

 

Kylo took tentative steps towards Rey, and she smiled gently. He couldn’t recall the last person before her who had smiled at him like that. She was a light amidst his darkness. 

 

They were close, her head craned up to peer at him through fanned lashes. He took the Christmas lights out of her hands, dropping them carelessly to the floor, before he took her cheeks in his broad hands and kissed her.

 

Oh, she tasted so sweet. Like rain and sugary soda, like a figment of his dreams. Her skin was warm beneath his hands, and she sighed as he pressed a series of gentle kisses to her lips and cheeks.

 

“Kylo…”

 

His name on her lips was so much, too much. He had been patient for years, waiting for her, and then patient for weeks again, waiting to return. 

 

His patience was gone now.

 

He began to kiss her in earnest, pulling her body flush against his. She was warm, so warm, through their layers of clothes. Her lips were soft, but her hands were rough as they found his waist and squeezed him tight. His hands roamed from her cheeks, to her shoulders, to her waist, small but not delicate, just like her. They passed her hips to find the soft flesh of her thighs as he pulled her up and wrapped her legs around him while he kissed her deeper, tasting her, devouring her.

 

The silence around them was so profound he could hear her soft gasp clearly, feel her sharp intake of breath against her lips. He stepped forward until he could rest her on the nearest booth table; when he did he paused, taking in her blown pupils and kiss-reddened lips. 

 

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered before he began to pepper kisses down her neck, pulling down the top of her button-down collar to press kisses along her collarbone. 

 

“Charmer.” He felt the vibration of her word through lips rested on her throat, and in jest he pressed his teeth there, smiling against her skin when he felt her laugh. 

 

“Don’t move,” he commanded, and she wiggled in place immediately. He nibbled on her collarbone in gentle retaliation. While his deft fingers began to unbutton her top, one by one, his mouth followed his hand, leaving behind a trail of kisses on her smooth skin. When he reached the bottom he pushed the top off of her soft shoulders, his gaze feasting on the sight before him. 

 

Rey was stunning, all milky-smooth skin and soft lines. She wore a simple, unadorned black bra, a little too big for her judging by the fit.

 

He couldn’t recall seeing anything more beautiful in his life.

 

He reached around her waist to untie her apron, still on from her shift, and dropped it to her side. He reached to the front to unbutton her bottoms and --

 

She stopped him with a grasp of his hand. For a flash of a moment he was worried she would say this was too much, too quickly, but instead she flashed him a heart-stopping grin. “Not fair. I can’t be naked while you’re dressed. Off with your top.”

 

Working quickly, he unbuttoned his own top to slip it off his shoulders. Immediately she reached forward to caress his now bare skin, eyes wide in what he hoped was appreciation. Her fingertips left a trail of fire behind them, and his cock strained against his pants in anticipation.

 

Already, it was too much. He felt like a teenager in the throes of puberty, unable to restrain himself around her.

 

He stepped forward so he was between her legs and heat flashed in her eyes. With a single movement he undid the button of her pants, and she obediently lifted her hips so he could slide them off her smooth legs, her shoes coming off with them. Her panties were mismatched to her top; they were pink and threadbare, dotted with a few holes where dark hairs poked through.

 

His gaze flickered up to find her cheeks flush and her gaze downcast, and he knew it was from embarrassment and not arousal. “I’m sorry, I… didn’t know you’d be back today and that we’d be doing this, I’m such a mess, I…”

 

One hand found her chin, pulling it up so he could look into her eyes. Firmly, he told her, “You’re perfect.” 

 

This time, she was the one to reach up to him, to pull him down so she could kiss him. It was hard and insistent, reminiscent of when she used to tell him off when he made poor management decisions. Her lips pulled away from his to trail along his cheek, finding his ear so she could whisper, “Fuck me,” to which he responded, “Not yet.”

 

He pushed her back gently so she was leaning on her elbows on the table, watching him. He pulled her hips forward and slid her panties off, reveling in the sight of the dark, curly hair covering her mound.

 

_ Perfect. Absolutely perfect. _

 

He kissed up her silken legs, smiling to himself as she threw her head back and sighed. Her skin was salty on his lips as he moved up, up, breathing her in, committing every smell, taste, and sound to memory. Finally he reached her delicate folds, breathing in her sweet smell before his tongue darted out to taste her and oh, oh, how long it had been and how  _ good  _ it was, sweet and tangy and  _ Rey _ . Testing the waters he slipped a tongue inside of her, hands digging into the flesh at her hips. 

 

“Up,” she whispered and he obeyed, pressing the flat of his tongue to her clit before drawing circles. 

 

She was slick already, wet and ready, waiting for  _ him _ . The thought was almost too much for him, his cock shivering at the thought, and he wondered if he’d be able to fuck her tonight at all or if he’d cum in his pants before he had the chance.

 

No. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing his fingertips along the soft inside of her thigh. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

 

Keeping his touch light, his tongue danced along her clit; when he pulled it between his lips and sucked, she let out a long and languid sigh. Rey was… so beautiful, so strong and so smart and so  _ sexy _ . Kylo truly had no idea how he deserved to be where he was, licking the clit of this goddess,  _ oh _ , who moaned his name as he pulled a hand away from her hip to slip a finger inside her warm wetness. As he worked hand and mouth, the hand still on her hip felt her grow tense, and one of her hands found his hair, holding him in place.

 

He wouldn’t move, even if he was drowning, even if he couldn’t breathe.

 

So badly he wanted her to come undone, to come apart at the seams. From the way that her hand dug into his scalp and her mutterings of “Jesus” “Kylo” “Please” and “Yes”, he knew she was close. He worked faster, his tongue circling her clit, her juices running down his chin, his finger plunging inside of her and curling forward, until finally  _ godyesgod _ her hips bucked and she cried out his name, clenching around his finger until she pushed him away, too sensitive.

 

When he surfaced, he saw her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her cheeks flaming red, her mouth wide with a smile. She managed an “unf” sound before her head rocked forward and she opened her eyes. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she muttered with a laugh, before pulling him in for a kiss, seemingly not minding the taste of herself on his lips. 

 

He was trembling, his hands and his lips and his legs, as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She ended the kiss and, while grasping his belt loops, growled, “Will you fuck me now?”

 

As if he could say no to that.

 

With hands that trembled but remained steadfast, he undid his belt buckle and his pants, sliding them down his legs. Her still socked feet found his hips, pulling his boxer briefs down, and his cock sprang to attention. From the back pocket of his pants he pulled out a condom and slid it on as quickly as he could. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close, and with one hand guiding himself and one hand wrapped around her neck, he slid inside of her.

 

For a flash of a moment, as he first began to process the warmth and slickness and  _ wonder  _ of being inside her, he remembered moments with her. The first time he saw her smile, heard her laugh. The first time he felt her lips pressed against his, the first time he felt her smooth and soft skin beneath his hand. Her fearlessness, her kindness, her gentleness, everything about her that he cherished. 

 

He looked into her eyes, and knew this was so much more than just a fuck. 

 

Holding her tight, he slid in and out of her, whole body shivering as sensation wracked through him. One hand held firmly to her lower back and the other plunged into her hair, pulling her in for a deep kiss as he fucked her slowly. 

 

His fingers and toes were on fire, his legs were weak, his arms were tense from holding her tight, his lips were sore from their kisses, and it was  _ perfect _ . 

 

He was close. He didn’t want to be, it had been so short, but she was so beautiful, so soft, so warm and so incredibly sexy that he couldn’t help himself. His voice was broken as he muttered, “Rey.”

 

“Don’t stop.”

 

He didn’t, his hips moving faster, her legs locked tight around him while his fingertips dug into her skin. She was so warm, so tight, so soft, and --

 

Faster, faster, he fucked her faster, she began to moan slowly and she kissed him again, crashing into him so hard that it might bruise but he didn’t care, no, his legs were on fire, his stomach was on fire, his cock was on fire,  _ fuck _ .

 

Everything went black, and then white. He exploded in a collision of stars. Nothing existed in that moment but him and Rey, her fingernails dug tight into his shoulders, his name spilling out of her lips over and over again in gentle whispers.

 

After an eternity they parted, and simultaneously, they laughed. Her legs dropped and he slipped out of her, running to the nearest server’s stand to grab tissues so he could clean both of them up while she lounged back. She was flush from cheeks to chest, and she was smiling languidly at him. 

 

“My ass hurts,” she muttered, and they were laughing again.

 

He couldn’t remember laughing so much in a very, very long time. 


	12. The Chain

Christmas for Rey was as quiet as all of her previous Christmases had been.

 

The morning was spent with her grandmother, having a bacon and eggs breakfast at the home; the majority of the meal was spent listening to a co-resident of her grandmother ranting about how “the young generation was taking the Christ out of Christmas”, whatever that meant. 

 

At noon, Poe picked her up from there to take her along with Finn to his parents’ house. Dinner at the Dameron’s was a tradition that had started their first Christmas as friends; neither Finn nor Rey had parents to celebrate with, which was a tragedy to Poe’s loving and welcoming parents. They spent the afternoon sipping on spiked eggnog and playing card games until they were all rightly drunk and the turkey was ready to come out of the oven. BB chewed contentedly on turkey neck while the five of them enjoyed their meal together, eating until they were so stuffed that Rey fell asleep on Finn’s shoulder while Rudolph played on tv. 

 

At 9, Poe woke Rey up and called a taxi to take her home. Finn opted to stay the night, shooting a devious wink at Rey when him and Poe went up to his childhood bedroom while Rey wrapped her coat tightly around herself to step outside and jump into the taxi. 

 

Her thoughts were abuzz as she watched the small city pass by the taxi’s windows, still feeling tipsy even after her short nap. She still hadn’t told Poe and Finn about Kylo yet. There was the importance of the secrecy of their relationship, yes, and she knew Poe and Finn would be nothing but accepting of him, but she simply wasn’t ready. She enjoyed having a small secret, hot and glowing in her thoughts. 

 

Rey pulled out her phone to text him and wish him Merry Christmas, but she found that he had texted her first, about an hour prior.

 

_ Can I come over? _

 

Smiling, she rested her cheek against the cold glass of the window. 

 

_ Sure. I’ll be home in 20. _

 

The taxi was only around ten minutes from her place, but it gave her time to give it a quick tidy, or at least throw her dirty clothes underneath the bed. Her apartment would never be as clean as his neat townhouse, but it was who she was, and he would have to accept her, mess and all.

 

Well, to a certain degree. She’d have to work him into her full mess over time. 

 

Back at the apartment, she shoved her dirty clothes in the hamper and the overflow under her bed. She chucked her dirty dishes into the sink, took out the garbage, made her bed, and lit a few candles. It wasn’t clean by any standards, but it was less of a disaster. 

 

As she was sifting through her records to choose something to play that he would like, a knock came to her door.

 

She swept to the front door and opened it, and he was there.

 

Kylo.

 

He wore a grey v-neck and dark well-fitted jeans, his hair was slightly mussed, like he had just gotten out of bed, and he smelled faintly of sandalwood. 

 

Before she could register more, his lips were on hers. 

 

The kiss was hungry and hurried, and without removing his lips from hers the door behind him shut with a slam. 

 

They exchanged no words as he lead her to the bed, pushing her down gently so he could prop himself up above her. Eager hands made quick work of slipping the dress she had worn to Poe’s up her hips and he slid her panties down.

 

Last time had been… patient. Slow. This time all patience was gone, replaced with a hunger and a need that flashed dark in his eyes. His fingers dug tight into her skin, his kisses were so firm that it left her mouth sore, his movements were insistent. He spread her legs with his large hands and slid a long finger inside of her, silencing her gasp with a deep kiss.

 

Without bothering to remove her dress or do more than drop his pants and slip on a condom, he was sliding inside of her, filling her, his teeth working at her neck and collarbone so fiercely she’d have to wear a turtleneck the next day. Hurriedly he pumped inside of her, grasping her like he was afraid she would run, but she wouldn’t. Never. Not with him, and especially not when he was like this, hot and eager and demanding. His thumb reached down between them to press onto her clit and her back arched towards him. 

 

He still said nothing as he fucked her harder, faster, grinding into her, filling her. She muttered a string of nonsense words as he worked at her ball of nerves with his thumb; finally with a cry of his name and her fingers digging into his back she cascaded over the edge, and he followed her shortly thereafter.

 

Together they lay on her threadbare sheets, both gasping and catching their breath, her chest and cheeks hot from flush. After a moment he slowly slipped out of her, making his way to her tiny bathroom to clean himself up while she basked, properly sexed-up.

 

When he stepped out of the bathroom he leaned on the door frame, watching her with a muddled expression. It wasn’t what she would call happiness, but it wasn’t his familiar anger, either. If she had to choose a word for it, she’d call it contemplative. 

 

“I have something for you.”

 

“Oh?” She sat up, tucking her skirt under her legs. 

 

He stepped back to the door, picking up a wrapped and distinctly record-shaped package that she hadn’t noticed he was carrying when he came in. He passed it to her with the faintest of smiles.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

She slipped a finger underneath the neatly wrapped and shiny paper, pulling off the tape and slowly unwrapping the gift, gasping when it was revealed.

 

“Deja Vu.” Her words were hushed and reverent. “You remembered.” It was the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young album she had told him that she had been on the hunt for; it was a comment made in passing weeks ago.

 

“The internet is a great place.” When she looked up, she spotted a faint blush spotting his cheeks, and she pressed a gentle kiss there. 

 

“Thank you, truly. This is amazing. Can I put it on?”

 

“Of course.”

 

She stood and placed the record on her player, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly when the warm acoustics filled the otherwise quiet room. 

 

“I got something for you as well,” she told him, rustling around in her small desk tucked in the corner beside her kitchen. “It’s not wrapped, but…” She passed him a manila envelope, face down. His brows furrowed in curiosity, he unwrapped the string holding it closed and slipped out a sole piece of paper, his face lighting up when he saw what was there.

 

“Chewie!” He cried with a grin. “Did you draw this?”

 

Rey nodded. “I snapped a quick picture last time I was at your place for reference. He has such a handsome face I couldn’t help but draw him.”

 

“I’m going to frame this and hang it over his bed so he can admire himself.”

 

They laughed together, and Rey noted how remarkably at ease she felt with him in the room, even with it being the first time he was in her tiny studio apartment. She wondered if he was embarrassed to be there, so small she couldn’t even fit a couch or a tv or much in the way of decorations. 

 

Kylo reached out to pull her towards him, and they made their way back into her bed, Kylo on his back and Rey on her side, tucked close to him, quiet as they listened to the music.

 

“Did you visit your parents today?” Rey asked.   

 

Kylo immediately stiffened at her question. For too long he fell silent; if she couldn’t see that his eyes were open, she would have wondered if he had fallen asleep, jeans and all. “No,” he finally answered. “I spoke to my mother on the phone.”

 

Rey found that she had stiffened herself. “Not your father?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?” 

 

The question had come out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t intend on apologizing for it. 

 

Kylo sighed and looked away from her, fixing his gaze on a hole in her wall. “We haven’t talked in a long time. It’s complicated.”

 

“Try me.”

 

He sighed again, scrubbing his face with his hand. The smell of cigarettes lingered on his fingers, and she caught the scent with his movement. His hand was covering his mouth and muffled his words when he managed to say, “I’m embarrassed.”

 

“That’s not a good excuse.”

 

Disappointment rolled through her, disappointment in him. It was an unfamiliar feeling and one she wasn’t particularly fond of, especially since he had just fucked her and was lying in her bed. 

 

“Do you remember how I told you I had started working at my mother’s restaurant, Starkiller? And that my father was a bartender there and First Order eventually bought the place?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, after my mother sold the restaurant to First Order and retired, my father still worked there as a bartender. I…” He sighed, again, and began to play with a loose thread on her sheets with his fingertips. “Growing up with my parents was frustrating at times. They were both so career focused and they were always more concerned with themselves than with me. I was an afterthought to them.” His brows set into a frustrated furrow. “My father once forgot me at elementary school and I waited for him in the rain for hours, I wouldn’t see my mother for weeks at a time because she was busy working on releasing a new menu or doing some tv appearance. Even though they worked in the same restaurant, by the time I was fourteen they were separated. I was angry with them, all the time. It hurt when they divorced, and they never asked how I was feeling. It was all about what they were doing; they complained about each other to me all the time. I would do poorly in school and they didn’t care, I was beat up by other kids and they didn’t care. They never cared.”

 

He fell silent, his breath hitching. After collecting himself, he continued. “I worked at my mother’s restaurant because it was a guaranteed job, and fuck me, I didn’t mind it. I liked being a night owl, I liked food, I liked that food brought people together and made them happy. I thought I’d be a good manager. And when Snoke took over, apparently he thought so, too.” His voice went low, and darkness flashed across his eyes. “He also thought that my father stood in the way. Dad’s performance had been going downhill, he couldn’t move the way that he used to, couldn’t take as many tables as before, and he always needed help moving the kegs. Some of that charm had worn off with age, too. So, Snoke told me that I had to choose between my loyalty to my family or the company. I could either fire my dad and get a promotion or I could stay on as a supervisor. I chose the company.”

 

Rey hissed in a sharp intake of breath in disbelief.

 

“I know.” Kylo shook his head slowly. “ _ That’s _ why I’m so embarrassed.  _ That’s _ why I won’t talk to them. The moment I did it, I knew I was wrong.”

 

“Kylo…” Rey propped herself up on her elbow. Disappointment was still rife within her, but she understood him infinitesimally more. That didn’t meant that she was just going to let this go, though. “I like you, but you’re a bit of an idiot sometimes. I would do anything to talk to my parents.  _ Anything _ . I wouldn’t care what decisions I’ve made that they wouldn’t approve of or how awfully I had treated them. Having parents is a treasure in itself, even if they didn’t give you the best childhood. You can still talk to them now, and tell them how you feel, and work on improving your relationship. It’s never too late.”

 

His eyes went red, and he averted her gaze in shame. “I’m sorry.”

 

She pressed a hand to his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

 

\--

 

Kylo couldn’t sleep that night, and was up early the next morning, the bare ceiling taunting him. After letting Chewie out he paced in his living room, spinning his cellphone in circles in his hand. 

 

He closed his eyes and imagined Rey. The look of disapproval and disappointment she had given him last night. The wisdom she had imparted on him, tough but necessary. 

 

With a long but dramatic sigh, he dialed his mother’s number.

 

“Mom? It’s Kylo. Can I talk to dad?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had another scene planned at the end of this chapter, but I think I'm happy to leave it here for now.
> 
> Things are going to start coming to a close soon, I'm guessing there will be about two chapters left.


	13. Common Sense and Rationality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, meet fan.

Rey’s phone woke her with a start, blaring in her ear.

 

_ Why does this feel so familiar? _

 

Eyes too sensitive from sleep, she kept them closed instead of checking the bright light for the call ID, fumbling with the phone screen where she knew the answer button lay. 

 

Clearing her throat, she muttered, “‘Lo?”

 

She heard a quick intake of breath on the other line, followed by a pause. “You’re asleep.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Nine.”

 

She was starting to wake up, rubbing the sleep out of the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, well when a hot guy comes over to ravish you the night before it’s a little hard to get up in the morning.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Kylo’s words were tender, and a refreshing sound to wake her.

 

“It’s ok. What’s up?”

 

“I just got off the phone with my dad.”

 

That woke her up in earnest; she sat up in bed, tossing the sheets off her legs, and slipped her bare feet into slippers to avoid the cold floor so she could start making coffee. 

 

“How did it go?”

 

“It was… a little awkward.” Kylo huffed out a laugh. “We talked about the weather for ten minutes before he asked why I called. And then I apologized to him. He wasn’t happy I still work for Snoke, but…” He paused. “At the end, he told me he was grateful I called. I think I heard my mother crying in the background.”

 

Rey paused before softly responding, “I’m proud of you.”

 

She heard him swallow on the other line, and she wondered the last time someone had told him those words. There was a long break where she assumed he was collecting himself, and his voice was thick when he said, “I wouldn’t have done this without you.”

 

“Are you going to visit them, or...”

 

“Not yet. This is a start but I need to sit on it for a while.”

 

She nodded before realizing she couldn’t see him, and then added, “I understand.”

 

“You’re dinner shift tonight, right? I’m closing, so I’ll see you then?”

 

“Maybe I’ll come over after?”

 

“I’d like that. Very much.”

 

\--

 

A smile lifted Rey’s lips when she arrived at work and spotted Kylo’s car in the parking lot already, knowing she would be seeing him soon, even if it meant putting on their professional masks. 

 

The moment she entered the restaurant, she knew something was very wrong.

 

The usual chatter among employees was replaced with an unusual quiet, and everyone that she saw had their heads bowed, focused on work. When her gaze sought out the manager’s office, inside she saw Hux, Phasma, and Snoke, all standing with their arms crossed and their gazes fixed on her; Kylo was seated behind them with a sunken expression and his hands between his legs. 

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Phasma asked her, “Rey, can you come in here?”

 

_ Double fuck. _

 

Her stomach was in her shoes and her heart was in her throat as she stepped into the cramped office, feeling very much like she was walking onto death row. 

 

“Close the door,” Hux told her, and she acquiesced to his request while trying to calm her thumping heart. 

 

Hux turned to Kylo and sharply said, “Show her.” 

 

“I don’t --”

 

It was Snoke’s turn to speak; his voice was low but wispy, and she was immediately reminded of a snake. “Do it.”

 

Kylo hit the spacebar on the computer before him, and Rey’s world collapsed.

 

The image before her was grainy but undeniable. She wanted to vomit, she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to slap someone. Yet all she could manage was to be still, frozen in place by fear and understanding.

 

It was her and Kylo, his head was between her legs.

 

_ Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. _

 

Her stomach suddenly cramped painfully, and she had to pee badly.

 

Kylo wouldn’t meet her eyes, looking more ashamed than she had ever seen him, before he stopped the video with another tap of the keyboard.

 

Snoke was the first person to break the silence in the room. “Never, in all my years, have I seen such blatant and frankly disgusting disrespect of company property, not to mention the disregard for company policy against fraternization. You are both terminated, effective immediately.”

 

Rey knew this was coming, but his words were still a punch in the gut and she felt the blood drain out of her face. Kylo looked equally white, but resigned to his fate, his hair falling before his face. 

 

“Hux will escort you to gather your belongings and go. Your last paychecks will be sent to you.”

 

Rey had little in the way of belongings that she kept at the restaurant, only her shoes and her apron, so she gathered those while she felt Hux’s gaze bore into her back. When she turned to face him, he was smirking broadly, clearly enjoying the whole scene. 

 

Panic was rising in her throat, but she worked to quell it until she was alone. She wouldn’t let Hux win this one. 

 

When it came to money, things were hard, always hard -- what the hell would she do now? The end of the month was around the corner; she had enough set aside for January’s rent for her and her grandmother, as well as $30 for food. But once that was paid, she would have nothing beyond the measly waitress’s wages she’d receive in the mail. That would pay, perhaps, a week or two’s worth of food, but within a month she’d be behind on rent. If Rey was evicted she could survive, staying at Finn and Poe’s, but if her grandmother was evicted, where would she go?

 

Her eyes felt hot with tears and she blinked them back furiously, leaving the restaurant with her head held high, avoiding everyone’s curious gazes. She was grateful that Finn and Poe weren’t working or they’d be making a scene. 

 

She stepped outside, the cold hitting her face hard, biting at the corners of her eyes where tears threatened to fall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, collecting herself. 

 

This fucking restaurant -- it was just a workplace, it was just a restaurant, just a place where people went to eat. It was a place where she had been yelled at countless times by customers, employees, and management; a place where she had cried in the bathroom a few too many times; a place where she had stayed into the small hours of the morning but was never thanked for it; a place where she had scraped gum off of tables, cleaned grease off of the bottoms of counters, and scrubbed sugary soda syrup out of carpets; a place where she always left smelling of grease and deep-fry. But in spite of all of its shit, she had also met her best friends and a man she was truly starting to care for here. In its own way, it was home. 

 

And now it was gone because of one foolish and reckless decision, made in the heat of the moment. 

 

“Can I give you a ride home?”

 

Rey sighed and opened her eyes, unable to face Kylo. “Yeah, alright.”

 

\--

 

Kylo felt like absolute shit.

 

No, that felt like a gross understatement -- he felt like a piece of gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe, like the scum that accumulates on the bottom of a boat. 

 

Rey was silent in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed ahead. For Kylo, recovering from this would be easy -- he had a degree and he had a strong resume, even without Snoke’s reference. His mom could make a few phone calls and put him in any restaurant that he wanted.

 

But for her?

 

Where would  _ she _ go? No secondary education, no work experience outside of a restaurant, with an apartment and a grandmother to care for?

 

He was a complete and utter asshole.

 

“How did this happen?”

 

Her question was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. She slowly turned to face him, her expression solemn, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 

 

He was terrified of that very question.

 

“Did you know there were security cameras?”

 

Of course he knew. And of course there were. Any established restaurant had them, as both an anti-theft device and to protect them during incidents with rowdy and drunk customers. There was no point lying to her when it was so obvious. “Yes.”

 

They had reached her apartment building, and he brought the car to a stop in front of her door. His gaze flickered down to her hands; her knuckles were white where she gripped his leather seats.  

 

“Why did you fuck me there if you knew there were cameras?”

 

Her question was cold, so cold, colder than she had ever been, and he felt a flush dot his cheeks. 

 

His response came stumbling out in a rush, each word that left his mouth making him feel more foolish. “I just… I hadn’t seen you in so long and I missed you and… I can’t explain what you  _ do  _ to me Rey, you make me abandon common sense and rationality, it’s why I  _ know  _ I shouldn’t have kissed you in the first place but I did anyways because I can’t help myself around you. I knew the cameras were there, yes, but not once in the three months I’ve been at the Cantina have we checked the footage, it’s only used for emergencies and written over within three days. The only explanation is Hux… he wants my job, I know he does, he must have checked my logout times that day and saw that it was late and he reviewed the security footage to see why, and --”

 

She held up the palm of her hand to him, her eyes closed. “Stop. Just… stop.” His mouth closed with a clap. “I need to… brush up on my resume. Check job postings. I don’t know, whatever unemployed people do.”

 

Without another word she left the car, slamming the door behind her, leaving a stunned Kylo in her wake.


	14. Puzzle Pieces

For the first week, Kylo kept attempting to call Rey, but only reached her voicemail. 

 

She needed space, he knew, and he didn’t deserve her attention after what he had done; but he longed to hear her voice and to know that she was ok nonetheless.

 

After that week, he called his mother instead. 

 

She answered immediately, and the rush of relief that flooded through him at the sound of a familiar voice surprised him.

 

“Ben.”

 

“Mom.”

 

His voice must have been strained, or it was just a case of mother’s intuition, for she immediately asked, “Are you alright?”

 

So badly, he wanted to say “I’m fine, nothing’s wrong, just calling to say Happy New Year”. But in spite of the countless lies he had fed his mother over the years, from childhood through adulthood, he found that he couldn’t lie now. “Not really. Can you come over?”

 

It was no surprise that her response was, “Of course.”

 

It was a strange sensation, having her in his house for the first time when he had lived there for years, strange feeling her embrace again when it had been so long. But it was as comforting as a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter day, warming him from inside, and he felt like in the moments that she held him he reverted back from a jaded, angry, and sad thirty-one year old to a boy again. She was much smaller than him, holding him around the waist while he buried his face into her hair, smelling faintly of campfire like she had just gotten back from her cabin. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Kylo told her.

 

She guided him to his own couch and began to prepare them both tea from his kitchen, seeming to find where he kept everything without having to ask him. “Tell me everything.”

 

\--

 

Rey didn’t know why she was here, at this door, the wind whipping her hair around her wildly.

 

She had walked there, her heavy boots splashing through slush-covered concrete sidewalks beneath bright blue skies, their reflection turning the streets oil-slicked. It took her over an hour, but while she walked, she contemplated.

 

Maybe it was because it was New Year's, a time for resolutions, a time for fresh starts. 

 

Or maybe it was because it just felt so wrong to leave this hanging in the air, sitting in the depths of her stomach like she had swallowed a peach pit. In some ways it felt too soon -- she was still unsure of what she was going to say or what she was going to do, she only knew that she had to say or do  _ something _ . This lingering space in between wasn’t where she wanted to stay. 

 

She knew he was home; his car was in the driveway. She couldn’t run now, she had come too far.

 

Before she could try and talk herself out of it, she reached up with a gloved hand and knocked before pulling her hat off and stuffing it in her pocket, smoothing her hair out. To her great surprise, it wasn’t Kylo who answered the door, but Leia Organa herself. 

 

Leia was smaller than Rey, but in spite of her size her presence filled the house, her warm brown eyes giving Rey an impression of both the wisdom of experience and the lightheartedness of not allowing that wisdom to weigh her down. 

 

“You must be Rey. Come in.”

 

It was a strange experience hearing a celebrity say her name, so Rey could only manage to nod wordlessly, following Leia in. Concern began to flood through her; if Leia was here, was Kylo ok?

 

As if reading her thoughts, Leia told her, “Kylo’s in the living room. Would you like a tea?”

 

“Coffee, please. Black.”

 

Leia nodded at Rey and Chewie trotted up beside her, nudging her ankle with his nose before barking loudly. She smiled and bent down to rub his ears before she entered the living room.

 

A red-eyed Kylo was seated on the couch, Bob Dylan crooning over his stereo. In their short time together she had never actually listened to his setup and the sound quality was excellent, warm and well-balanced. 

 

The moment he saw her, he looked up, his expression filled with hope that he quickly tried to quash.

 

“Rey.”

 

“Hi, Kylo.” She walked with slow, deliberate steps towards him. Seeing him again… she was angry with him, yes, but she also missed him so fiercely it made her chest ache. 

 

And in that moment… she knew. As she listened to Leia clinking in the kitchen, and the tick-tack of Chewie’s claws on the floor; as she caught the smells of Pine-Sol and sandalwood that she associated with Kylo’s home; as she saw him laid before her, more open and raw and  _ naked  _ than when they had made love; she knew. 

 

Her steps became more sure as she approached him and flung her arms around his shoulders, holding him as he shook with tears. She held him for so long that she heard Leia stop rustling in the kitchen and the smell of fresh roasted coffee beans filled the room, and the album side ended with the whirr of the arm lifting.

 

_ This  _ was where she was meant to be. It was fucked up -- he was fucked up --  _ she  _ was fucked up -- but it was all the more reason for them to be fucked up together. They were a complete mess, both of them, him too quick to anger and her too quick to speak, him too set in his ways and her too disorganized. They filled the parts of each other that they both needed filled, like jagged puzzle pieces that could never find their match until they found each other.

 

Into her hair, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

 

Into the crook of his neck, she whispered, “Me too.”

 

When she pulled away to take a seat beside him, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his hair more mussed than she had ever seen. “How are you?” he asked thickly.

 

“I got a job,” she told him, and his brows shot up in excitement. “It’s not much. Poe’s dad owns a motorcycle shop and is hiring me on as a shop hand. If he’s happy with my work, he’ll take me on as an apprentice.” She shrugged. “Poe told him that I was fired and he called me that day to offer me a job.”

 

He placed a gentle hand on her cheek, smiling softly. “Is the pay ok? I can help you with your bills until your apprenticeship, I--”

 

Rey held a hand up to quickly stop him. “No, don’t. I’m going to help out with serving lunches at my grandmother’s home on weekends, and in return they’re going to give us a discount on her accommodations. It gives me a good reason to visit her, anyways.”

 

“Are you sure, I--”

 

Rey silenced him with a press of her finger to his lips. “Stop. I’m not a fair maiden who needs your protection, or your money. My grandmother and I have fought through hardships for many years and we keep coming out of it, together. We’ll do the same now.” He nodded in acquiescence. “Besides… I think this may be a  _ good _ thing. The restaurant for me… it was money, yes, but it wasn’t where I wanted to work for my whole life. It was stressful, it wasn’t rewarding, there wasn’t passion there, only a paycheque. I enjoy motorcycles, I enjoy hard work, I enjoy a challenge, I enjoy learning. Just because I was bad at books doesn’t mean I can’t be good at something else, and I think this could be it. It’s early, but I like taking things apart with my hands, I like seeing the evidence of how something works laid before me.” 

 

Kylo’s eyes were fixed firmly on hers; with a flash his hands were on her cheeks and his lips were on hers, kissing her firmly, deeply, and she kissed him back with equal passion. The kiss was short, and when he pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers.

 

He was growing, her Kylo. He had gone from a man whom she disliked and disrespected, following her like an insecure shadow, to a man who was passionate, kind, and rarely angry. To see his mother here at his home warmed her heart and told her that he only had room to grow now that he was away from the influence of Snoke. Her fiery anger that she had held onto that week like a talisman dissipated entirely, replaced with a warmth that filled her very soul. 

 

“Your coffee,” Leia said gently from the door, and Kylo and Rey pulled apart, not out of shame but out of respect. She had brought with it a tray of biscotti, and Rey dove into them hungrily, exhausted from her long walk. 

 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you as well, something my mother and I have discussed,” Kylo told her as Leia pulled up a chair beside them. “I’m going to go back to school for culinary arts.” Rey lowered her biscotti, listening raptly. “And when I’m done, we’re going to open a restaurant together. I’m going to cook, not manage, and my mother will strictly be a shareholder, so we’ll be hiring managers. We… discussed hiring you.”

 

Rey was floored. “Me?”

 

“Yes, to manage Front of House. You have a good mind for it, I know from the suggestions you made for me at the Cantina.”

 

“No.” The word was quick out of her lips, and she flushed at its abruptness. She turned to Leia and continued, “Thank you, truly, but no.” Her gaze flickered back to Kylo. “I saw how stressful management was for you. I’m happy with where I am, or at least, where I’m going to be.”

 

“Good for you,” Leia said, and Kylo nodded in agreement. 

 

Kylo took Rey’s hands within his, warm and broad. He turned to Leia and asked, “Can we have a moment alone?”

 

“Of course,” she replied with a sly smile. “Come on, Chewie. Let’s go for a walk.”

 

After both Leia and Chewie were wrapped up in scarves and coats, the front door closed with a click, and Kylo pressed another quick kiss to Rey’s lips.

 

“Rey…” He paused. “I like you, very much. I want this to be something.”

 

Thrill rushed through her at his words, and she replied, “I do too.”

 

Kylo positively glowed.

 

They were a mess, evidenced by the fact that she walked over here unsure of herself and walked out with… what? A boyfriend? 

 

But perhaps that was the way of her and Kylo. They were messes, but they were messes together. 

 

Besides, if they were able to survive through both being fired, they could survive through anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT, FRIENDS!
> 
> Thank you so, so much for all of your endless support. I'm blown away but the amount of comments, kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions this silly little fic has received and it means so much to me. Special thanks to J for always encouraging me. 
> 
> See you on the other side of Last Jedi.


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all tempted me too much and I had to write an epilogue.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything. 
> 
> My Canadian shows a little bit in this chapter.

It was a Friday in May, late in the afternoon, and the city around him was bustling. Many like him had just gotten off work and were getting their grocery shopping done, or taking their dog out for a walk to celebrate the beautiful day. The spring flowers were out in full bloom and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

 

Not that he and Rey would be staying in the city for long, although she didn’t know it yet. 

 

He drove into the parking lot of her workplace with the top down in his 911, his hair a wild mess from the wind, and he spotted her through the open bay doors. She was wearing dark blue overalls tied up around her waist and a black t-shirt; her hair was slick with sweat, sticking to her forehead, and her hands were black with grease because she hated wearing gloves. 

 

Oftentimes over the years that they had been together, Kylo found himself worrying that Rey would grow tired of him. He was thirty-five now, with a few grey hairs snaking along his hairline and a few more lines along his face than when they had met. Rey, on the other hand, now twenty-five, had only grown more beautiful, mirthful, and wise. She excelled at her job and was now a licensed technician, taking on big projects of her own. She was smart, and she was independent; every day, he reminded himself that she was too good for him.

 

Yet when she looked up and spotted him, the smile that took over her whole face erased his worries.

 

“Kylo!”

 

Gently she placed her tools down and trotted over to him, leaning over his car door to place a kiss on his lips. A streak of dirt or oil was across her forehead and her hair was a greasy mess, but she had never looked so beautiful. 

 

“I thought you were staying late today?”

 

He shook his head, and shot his own broad smile at her. “I have a surprise for you. Are you finishing up soon?”

 

“I can wash up and finish up now, that bike isn’t due to be ready till next week.”

 

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

She grinned again and tore off at a run, and he watched her retreating back, feeling at peace. She always managed to assuage his fears with the love that she held for him, open and unrestrained. 

 

What had been attraction between them at first had quickly turned into what they recognized as love. Within a year of becoming his girlfriend she moved in with him and Chewie while he finished off school; she helped him pay his mortgage, but he kept the cost lower than her rent for her studio apartment. He officially opened his restaurant, Takodana, six months later, and it was a rousing success, earning him his first Michelin star within a year. By that time Rey had finished her apprenticeship, and with both of their incomes more comfortable and steady, they were able to move Satine into a higher end home with better care and adopt a second dog, Artoo, a shaggy mutt from the shelter who had captured both of their hearts. 

 

They were happy, truly happy. His job was stressful at times, yes, and so was hers, but he still smiled and laughed every time that they were together. Communication wasn’t always easy between the two of them, but they worked at it, and that was what mattered the most.

 

Rey came running back out, having swapped her overalls for simple cargo shorts and a white tee, her face and hands washed of the worst of the grease and dirt. She slid into the passenger seat beside him, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

 

“So, what’s my surprise? Can I shower first?”

 

After starting a Tragically Hip album for their drive, he chinked into reverse and merged onto the street before answering, “We’re not stopping at home, but there’s a shower there.”

 

“And where, exactly, is there?”

 

He didn’t answer, he just smiled slyly and took her hand.

 

\--

 

After a brief stint on the highway and a quick burger stop for dinner, they wound through country roads till the sky began to turn red at the precipice of sunset. At first Rey pestered Kylo mercilessly about their destination, but as they got farther and farther from the city, she quietly accepted his guidance. 

 

Finally they arrived at their street, a gravel road near to the lake. His Porsche bounced wildly on the road, the gravel crackling beneath his tires. He drove to the end, pulled into a long driveway, and stopped in front of a small but tidy cottage, pulling his e-brake up and turning the car off.

 

“Ta-da,” he said with a flourish before pulling the top up on the car. 

 

“What --” she stepped out of the car, her mouth wide with wonder. “Where are we?”

 

He pulled two overnight bags out of the trunk -- for the sake of the surprise, he had packed Rey’s for her. 

 

“It’s ours for the weekend,” he told her. Unlocking the front door with a set of keys he pulled out from the mailbox, he deposited the bags in the front foyer. Instead of going inside, he lead her around the side, along a winding path towards the lake. 

 

Though the cottage was small, it had a long, sloping backyard that opened up to the lake. A small outdoor kitchen set was on the patio and they followed the stone path along the grass towards the water, past a fire pit, stepping along the long dock to take a seat at the bench placed for them on the end. 

 

The sun was nearly dipping into the water, turning it shimmering blue and white, a sharp contrast to the warmer hues of red and orange that dominated the cloudless skies. Kylo took Rey’s hand and she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. In soft silence they watched the sun disappear beneath the horizon, turning the sky navy until stars began to litter the sky and Rey snuggled closer to him for warmth.

 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get you inside for a hot shower.”

 

They stood together and he lead her along the stone path towards the dark cottage. “Not that this isn’t lovely, but… what about Artoo and Chewie? What about work? I thought you were doing dinner shift all weekend.”

 

“Artoo and Chewie are with my dad, you know how he feels about Chewie.” That made Rey laugh softly. “I never had to work dinner shift this weekend, I just wanted to ensure you didn’t make plans for us.”

 

“You’ve been planning this for a while.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“Yes,” he told her. “I thought we could both do with some time away.”

 

Her voice was thick when she muttered, “Thank you,” shooting a smile up at him.

 

The cottage was small and unremarkable, loaned to him for the weekend by his Uncle Luke. It was remarkable how resecuring bonds with his mother had allowed him to grow closer with other family members as well. 

 

While Rey took a shower, Kylo unloaded the few groceries he had unpacked from the car and made a small tray of treats for them before stepping back outside to the fire pit so he could get a small fire going. 

 

Rey found him there, her hair still wet and pulled up into a tight bun, wearing her favourite hoodie that he had packed for her and a pair of pajama pants. Already she looked more relaxed, her smile gentle. 

 

“Hey there, park ranger,” she joked. “Pretty good fire you’ve started.”

 

He gestured towards one of the benches beside the fire and they sat together on it. Kylo wrapped their legs in blankets that he had brought from inside. Rey shocked him when she explained that she had never tried s’mores, and he roasted golden marshmallows and made sandwiches until their fingers were sticky and their kisses sugary sweet. They then dipped into the beers that he brought, their laughter growing more raucous as they drank more.

 

When the fire began to wane, Rey looked up into the stars, more bright in the country skies than they ever were in the city, the constellations and sweep of the Milky Way bright lights on a navy sheet of sky. 

 

“Come, let’s stargaze,” Kylo suggested. Grabbing more beers, they pulled the blankets off their laps and lay them on the ground away from the fire, snuggling close. They pointed out the few constellations that they knew, and created their own when they didn’t know. 

 

Keeping their sweaters on for warmth and beneath nothing but the blanket of stars, they made love outside, the night turning their breath into fog. Their lips remained locked firmly together as Kylo rocked slowly inside of Rey, taking his time, not wanting this moment together to ever end. 

 

She was his rock. She was his anchor among the storm. She was his everything.

 

And he knew, as she gazed at him with blown pupils that were as familiar to him as his own were, that she felt the same about him.

 

Never did he dream he would be deserving of a love as deep as that which Rey held for him, but here he was, with her. Once an employee, now the most important person in his life. His love eternal. 

 

He finished inside her with a shutter, holding her close, the sound of their own breath amplified in the silence of isolation.

 

He rolled onto his side, pulling her close to him, feeling her body form to the lines of his. 

 

“Do you ever miss who I was when we met?” he asked her, breathing her in. 

 

“You’re still the same person,” she said. “Just… a little calmer. A little more trusting. A little more loving. But I’ve always liked you, even if you frustrated me at times. And still frustrate me sometimes.”

 

He laughed and pressed his lips to her hair, sighing in contentment.

 

Back then, he thought that happiness was success; managing the best and most efficient restaurant in the city, moving up in the ranks of management, receiving Snoke’s approval.

 

But now, lying beneath the stars with the woman he loved in his arms, a quiet weekend ahead of them alone at his family’s cabin, kayaking and swimming and making steaks on an open fire and making love whenever they pleased?

 

This was happiness. 

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes to clarify restaurant jargon:
> 
> Mid shift = Working the lunch shift, the bridge of time between lunch and dinner, and the dinner shift. Usually around noon-8pm. 
> 
> Front of House = Servers/Hosts/Bartenders/Anyone who interacts with customers
> 
> Heart of House = Cooks/Prep cooks/Dishwashers/Anyone who deals with food
> 
> Running plates = Carrying prepared dishes from the kitchen to their respective tables
> 
> Roll-ups = Cutlery rolled up into napkins
> 
> Calling a hot pot = When a cook is carrying a hot item through the kitchen, they have to call "hot" to alert everyone around them
> 
> Dish pit = The area where dishes are cleaned. Some unfortunate servers, like Rey, need to occasionally help the kitchen out by stepping in to clean dishes.
> 
> 86 = Running out of an item


End file.
